Dawn of Shadows
by Count Bathory
Summary: Sargoth Drelas, a Dunmer Assassin & Lord of the Volkihar Vampire Clan, sits alone in his castle, writing the pages of his memoir. From his troubled childhood to the events that led him to Skyrim, Sargoth gives a grim, but honest retelling of his life story. Eventual OMC/Serana.
1. Introduction

There are many who would say my existence is a curse on this world. Perhaps they are right; I do not deny I have committed countless atrocities in my life. Others might say I am a blessing, though I dare say they are probably fewer. It seems there are always those who benefit from the misfortunes of others, for I suppose that is how assassins and thieves such as myself are able to thrive in this world. It amazes me the lengths some people will go to, the amount of coin some people will pay, to completely ruin the life of another fellow man. Whether it be murder, theft, sabotage, or perhaps even just spying, there is always someone who will pay to have it done, and there is always someone like me who will carry it out and will stop at nothing to complete the task.

Regardless of how the world perceives me, my crimes against it are numerous. I have robbed and murdered innocents, betrayed those who once called me friend to further my own causes, completely destroyed families; I have even ransacked entire villages, leaving no survivors. I have slain military commanders and politicians, and even crippled an entire Empire by assassinating its Emperor right on his own ship.

This is not the greatest of my transgressions however. Oh no, my greatest crime goes far beyond that. I have in my possession a very powerful weapon that is capable of darkening the sun itself. You see, I am a vampire; perhaps one of the most powerful in Tamriel. Vampires have feared the sun for as long as we have existed, and we are forced to hunt our prey during the dark hours of the night and shut ourselves away during daylight. The sun is considered one of the primary connections between the Gods and our mortal world, and I have the power to sever it. I have spat in the face of Akatosh himself, and all of my kind are now free to feed as we please.

As I sit here in my castle in Skyrim writing this, for the first time I'm actually reflecting completely on everything I have done and am fully realizing the consequences of my choices. I'm not saying I regret my actions; I've lusted for eternal power for as long as I can remember, and nothing brings me greater pleasure than killing those who oppose me. But despite the power I have gained, I still feel a certain emptiness inside me; like something is still unfulfilled. As I am a vampire gifted with immortality, I will live on until the end of time, and I feel that no matter what I accomplish, I will always be left yearning for more. If I ever fill this void, that still remains to be seen.

I am writing this because I want to have a written record of my legacy. Should I ever be slain, I want the world to remember my deeds. I want people to tremble in fear at the mere mention of my name, to know that the world was once at my mercy. My name is Sargoth Drelas, and this is my story, of a Dunmer who defied the Gods themselves and brought Tamriel to its knees.


	2. Dark Secrets

I was born on the 6th of Midyear, in the 6th year of the 4th era. My parents lived in our race's homeland of Morrowind and they married 5 years before I was born. My mother's name was Norvela. I never met my father; everything I know about him were all stories told to me by my mother. She told me my father was a wealthy merchant who made his living selling weapons, armor, clothes, crafting equipment, all your usual junk. She met him one day while out shopping, and she almost instantly fell for his charms. They developed a relationship, and he was everything my mother ever wanted in a man. They married having only known each other for 2 months, and this was when my mother discovered my father's darkest secret; the secret that tore my parents apart and destroyed my mother's life, and indirectly, mine.

My father was a skooma dealer. Underneath his legitimate business, my father ran an underground black market for skooma, which as you know is quite illegal across most of Tamriel. This wasn't just a small side project my father had going; he supplied over half of Morrowind's skooma and this was the largest bulk of his income. Criminal organizations all across Morrowind funded and produced his skooma, and they gave him protection from the law. Over time, my father developed a crippling addiction to skooma. Under its intoxicating effects, my father became extremely violent and physically abused my mother. Every night my father would come home after getting his fix of skooma, my mother would plead with him to quit, and he would proceed to beat her, sometimes almost to death. This abuse lasted for years. My mother could never bring herself to leave him. She still loved my father. After each beating, my father would apologize profusely to my mother. He bought her countless gifts, he promised to never lay a hand on her again, and he told her he would seek help for his addiction. Of course he never did, and the beatings continued, and that cycle would repeat itself every day. My mother bought his lies each and every time, and she still hopelessly tried to change him. When not under the influence of skooma, my father was still the loving and charming man she fell in love with.

Eventually my mother became pregnant with me. During that time apparently my father tried to kick his addiction and be a better husband to my mother, and also be a good father for when I was born. My parents began to rekindle their marriage; my mother's prayers had finally been answered and she forgave my father all those years of abuse. Then one day, after one of my father's skooma deals went horribly awry, he relapsed. He came home more violent than he had ever been before. He beat my mother savagely and proceeded to brutally rape her. My father fled the house afterwards, and he left my mother lying unconscious and naked in a pool of her own blood.

A neighbor who overheard the commotion came into the house and found my mother lying on the floor. He watched over her and kept her safe until she woke up. After she recovered from the ordeal, my mother knew that Morrowind was no longer safe. My father was beyond saving and he was going to kill her eventually, and possibly even me. She was not going to have me raised in such a violent and abusive environment. She had to flee, and fast.

My mother was 7 months pregnant at this time. She began to pack some clothes and camping supplies into her knapsack, and she also took about 5,000 septims my father kept hidden away. As she was going through more of their stuff, my mother found a letter addressed to my father. It was from an anonymous buyer who was arranging a very large skooma deal with my father. The buyer was going to meet with my father and pay him 1,000,000 septims for an enormous stash of skooma. The letter stated exactly where and what day and time the deal would be taking place. In order to ensure extra security for her and myself, my mother turned the letter over to the guards. My father met with the buyer late at night in a remote location, with wagons of barrels the skooma was stored in. The buyer and some associates arrived on their own wagons loaded with sacks of gold. After the deal was complete, my father got onto one of the wagons with the gold to count his loot. When he opened the sack however, all he found inside were vegetables instead. The buyer and his men drew their swords; they revealed that they were really the guards, and that the real buyer had already been arrested. My father was slapped in chains and dragged off to prison, and my mother told me he received a life sentence.

That was all I was ever told of my father. My mother never liked to speak of him. To this day I don't know if he's still alive rotting in prison, or if he got himself killed. All I know is he caused my mother years of pain, and she never recovered from the abuse she suffered by his hands. I hate my father for what he did, and in the unlikely event I ever do meet him, I'll gladly stick a blade through his gut.


	3. New Beginnings

My mother arrived in Cyrodiil in Second Seed; a month before I was born. Despite being pregnant, she travelled very long distances every day. She would only stop at night to sleep for a few hours before starting off again at the crack of dawn. Occasionally she would find an inn to stay at, and the innkeepers usually gave her a small amount of food and money to take with her on her journey. I guess a pregnant woman running away from her abusive husband tends to gain sympathy from other people. My mother didn't exactly have a plan in mind as far as where she would go or how she would support herself and her new child. All she was worried about was getting away from Morrowind and out of my father's reach. It was unlikely he would ever escape from prison, but my father was a clever Dunmer, and my mother wasn't taking any chances. My father did run a skooma operation right under the guards' noses for years after all. If he could do that, he could do anything, and my mother knew it. She swore to never set foot in Morrowind again.

My father was still present in my mother's thoughts. Despite everything that happened and all the hell he put her through, deep down my mother still loved him and wanted nothing more than to be with the man she fell in love with and raise me together. She felt guilty about turning my father over to the guards. She did what she had to do, and I always admired her for that, but I know that she was never able to shake that guilt. She definitely regretted her decision somewhat, and it haunted her for the rest of her life.

After a month of travelling, my mother eventually arrived in Cyrodiil, and this was where she decided she would raise me and try to start a new life. Cyrodiil was in turmoil at that time. The Oblivion Crisis had been over for less than a decade, and its effects were still being felt all across the land. The last of the Septim Emperors had sacrificed himself to stop the Daedric Prince Mehrunes Dagon from taking over Tamriel with his army of Daedra. An Altmer by the name of Ocato was the closest thing Tamriel had to a leader. But his competence was questionable, and without a true Emperor, the Empire began a long and steady decline which still exists over 200 years later as I write this now. Ocato was eventually assassinated by the Aldmeri Dominion a number of years later.

My mother settled in the city of Bravil. That place is by far the worst city in all of Cyrodiil and certainly the worst place to try and raise a child. But considering my mother was running out of money and she had entered the province illegally, there was nowhere else she could really go. All the other cities were much too expensive and Bravil was really the only city illegal immigrants like my mother were accepted. My mother used the last of the money she took from my father and bought a small little house close to the chapel. A couple of weeks after getting settled in Bravil my mother was brought to a small healers' clinic where she gave birth to me, her first and only child. As she held her newborn son against her breast, my mother was overjoyed as she looked into my waking eyes, but was also filled with great sadness. My father still occupied her thoughts, and more than ever my mother wished he was with her. She wanted to be back in Morrowind with her husband, before he became a monster. She wanted to have a normal, loving, and functional family. But she knew that would never happen now, and it killed her inside. My mother fell asleep in the clinic, still holding me close against her. Her new life, as well as mine had now begun.


	4. A Mother's Love

"By the Nine, boy! What happened to you?!" my mother screamed as she looked at me.

My nose was broken and bleeding heavily, blood was pouring down my face like a stream that runs into a river. There was a dark spot over my right eye and my face was covered in cuts and bruises.

"Has that Orc boy Ghorzag been beating you up again?" she asked as she opened a drawer.

"It's not that bad ma, really." I said weakly. The truth was I felt like my face was stabbed by a claymore.

"Oh don't you give me that! Your face is bloodier than an executioner's chopping block! Let me just find a cloth here and some bandages and I'll get you all cleaned up," my mother said as she continued looking through the drawer.

After finding what she was looking for, my mother soaked the cloth in some cold water and knelt down close to me and started to wipe the blood off my face.

My mother was an attractive woman, at least by Dunmer standards. She had long dark hair as black as the midnight sky that flowed down to her back. Her eyes were a dark purple color, which was unusual as red is the standard eye color for a Dunmer. Her face was a slightly paler shade of green than mine. She still bore a few scars that my father gave her which she tried her best to cover with makeup, but they were always still slightly visible. Despite that, her face was still quite refined and possessed a certain elegance. She was just a little over 100 years old, which is still quite young for my race, and she hardly looked a day over 20. She often had a gloomy and sullen look about her though, which is understandable considering what she had been through. She tried her best to hide it, but looking into her eyes I could see a traumatized and broken woman, full of fear and sorrow. Still, she did her best to provide for me, and I can say that she was genuinely a good mother, and I loved her dearly.

"My poor baby," my mother said as she continued to wipe my face.

"Ghorzag has gone too far this time. I have half a mind to go to the guards and get them to make him stop bullying you."

"You know the guards won't do anything ma. You know his parents are close to the Count," I said to her.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right son. With his father being the Captain of the Guard and his mother a noble in the Count's court, I doubt the guards would lift a finger to stop him. Still, it's not right. I hate seeing you hurt so badly. There has to be something we can do," my mother said as she finished wiping off the blood and bandaging my nose.

"I'll be fine ma. I don't know how, but I'll figure out my own way to deal with Ghorzag. I'm not going to let him push me around forever. I'll find a way to stand up to him," I said to my ma in a confident tone of voice, hoping she would feel better.

She smiled at me and hugged me, and I her. Her warm embrace was comforting, and the pain in my face began to subside.

"Stay strong Sargoth. I promise you're going to make it through this, and I'll help you in whatever way I can. I love you son," said my mother, brushing a tear from her eye.

"I love you too ma, and thanks."

"Well, I guess you're as cleaned up as I can get you. It's getting late. I want you to go to bed and get some sleep. I'll be working tonight, but I'll be back in the morning to make you breakfast," my mother said as she was getting ready to leave.

"Do you have to?" I asked, knowing full well what her answer would be.

"Yes, unfortunately I do son. I hate it as much as you do, but there's nothing else for me to do out here. This is the only way I can support the both of us. Every day I pray to the Gods that something better comes along for us, but for now I'm afraid this is the way it has to be. You go to sleep now all right? I'll see you in the morning."

"Yeah, good night ma," I said, and with that she left.

In the daytime, my mother worked as a servant in the castle of the Count of Bravil. She would handle most of the everyday menial tasks such as sweeping all the floors, cleaning the Count's living quarters, assisting the cook with preparing the meals, fetching mead for the guards, and she was also responsible for bringing food and water to the prisoners once a day. My mother hated this job, as it only paid a measly 5 septims a day. In addition to that, the Count of Bravil was a perverted little weasel. He would grope my mother as she was trying to work and he would make sexual remarks at her. Sometimes he would force her to work in the nude as she cleaned his quarters, and I'm nearly certain on some days he was even making her service him sexually. How she endured that every single day was beyond me. But I guess that just shows how devoted a mother she was. She would do whatever it took to keep a roof over our heads.

As horrible as that job was, that wasn't the one I pleaded with her not to go to. My mother's day job wasn't nearly enough to pay for our weekly expenses, so in order to make ends meet she was also a prostitute by night. A couple nights a week, my mother would sell her body on the streets; several men, complete strangers would violate her and have their way with her. If her "clients" were abusive, she would even come home crying and with several bruises. I begged her all the time to stop doing it and find something else. Anything, anything at all would be better than selling herself to perverts on the street. But she always gave me the same answer every time, and admittedly, she would bring home a decent amount of money, sometimes even several hundred septims.

I laid down on my bed and shut my eyes and tried to go to sleep. I tried to forget the beating Ghorzag had given me that day. I tried to stop worrying about my mother. I tried to forget about our wretched living conditions. I just wanted to clear my mind and fall into a deep sleep. I just wanted a better life for my mother and me.


	5. Sunrise in Bravil

Sleep eluded me. I tried so very hard to clear my mind of all my troubles but my efforts were futile. I tossed and turned in my small bed and eventually I was left just staring at the wooden ceiling of our small house. I could hear a cold wind blowing outside the dark streets of Bravil; my fur blankets provided no warmth.

I thought constantly of my mother. Every time she went to her "night" job I could do nothing but pray to the Divines that she would come home safely. As I lay in my bed hopelessly staring into the abyss I began reflecting on my life so far. I began to wonder if there was more to life than this; if there was something greater in store for my mother and me, or if we were doomed to live this meaningless existence until we eventually died and just became rotted corpses in the ground.

I was 12 years old at that time. I didn't have many friends and spent much of my time alone. I don't remember if I didn't get along with the other children, or if I was simply shunned by my being a Dark Elf. Most of the other children were Imperials from better off families and they probably didn't want to associate with what they saw as a worthless peasant like me. Being extremely introverted and chronically shy probably wasn't helping matters either.

So I spent most of my time alone, which sometimes was okay. While the other boys and girls were playing tag or telling jokes, I was usually inside reading, educating myself about the wonders of the outside world. I read about countless heroes who travelled far and wide across Tamriel, saving the world and defeating their enemies. Even when they found themselves in great peril, and it seemed death was imminent, these heroes always emerged triumphant. The world would sing songs of their brave deeds and their names were long remembered through the mists of time.

I knew I was going to be like those heroes. I was going to travel all of Tamriel. I was going to become strong and defeat evil. I was going to take my mother and me away from this dreadful city and give her the life she so desperately wanted.

When I wasn't reading and pretending to be the heroes I read about, I also enjoyed going outside the walls of Bravil and practicing my sword skills and archery. My mother had saved enough money for my 10th birthday and bought me a wooden sword and bow. I never had any formal training in swordplay or archery. To this day, I am entirely self-taught and everything I know comes from my own knowledge and experiences.

Most of the parents generally didn't allow their children to leave the city walls, but my mother always let me as long as I promised not to travel too far away. She warned me of bandits and other bad people who would not hesitate to rob or even kill me.

Sometimes ma would even come with me and I would show off my progress to her. One day, I was going to be a good enough archer that I would be able to split an arrow straight down the middle. I could already picture my ma's face in my mind. She was going to be so proud of me.

Sometime during the night I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember was her hand on my shoulder shaking me awake. I opened my eyes, blinded momentarily by the sun's bright shining gaze. I looked up at my mother who was smiling at me, and she leaned in to me and kissed the top of my head.

"Rise and shine sleepy head," said my mother in her all too familiar gentle and motherly tone of voice.

"Aw come on ma! I hardly got a wink of sleep last night, just 20 more minutes?" I asked her, still half asleep.

"Well I suppose you can if you want to. I guess I'll just have to eat this whole breakfast by myself!" she uttered excitedly.

It was then that the delicious aroma of my mother's cooking reached my nose. I quickly hopped out of bed, slipped on my boots and went downstairs to the kitchen.

"I knew that would get you up!" laughed my mother as I sat down at our table.

"I made your favorite meal sweetheart. I know it's been a while since I've made it for you; I just haven't been able to find the time. I'm so sorry," she said as she laid my plate in front of me on the table.

My stomach growled as I saw my favorite meal on my plate: fried eggs with bread, bacon, a few slices of cheese, and a large steak on the side. I had already started eating as my mother sat down with her own plate.

Ma was in a particularly cheery mood this morning, which was a bit odd considering she would often come home from her night job just depressed and worn out. Seeing her so cheerful and upbeat gave me a feeling of serenity inside.

I was eating my breakfast as quickly as a sabre cat eats its prey.

"You would go to the depths of Oblivion itself just for a taste of my cooking wouldn't you?" said my mother, giggling like a little child.

It was true. My ma was unarguably the best cook in Tamriel. She told me that when she was much younger she used to work in kitchens all across Morrowind. She was often hired to prepare large feasts for weddings, parties, and banquets. She got to work alongside some of the most esteemed chefs in Morrowind, and she would help them in preparing meals for very important figures in the land, including members of the royalty.

Ma would often tell me of her dream to open her own tavern someday. She was going to move to Chorrol or perhaps even Skingrad where she would run her own bed and breakfast. She imagined herself cooking all the recipes she had learned in Morrowind, and she could see the faces of her satisfied customers as they finished their scrumptious meals.

I was going to make that dream come true for her. She sacrificed everything to raise me, and she went through hell every day to make sure I had a roof over my head and food on the table. She deserved this and I was going to help her in any way I could.

"So what's got you in such high spirits anyway ma?" I asked her.

"Well, you know I don't like doing what I do, but some nights I manage to rake in a decent haul of gold. And last night I brought in a very good haul," she explained, smiling.

Ma laid a large coin purse on the table.

"One thousand septims," she said, her purple eyes sparkling with glee.

My jaw dropped; ma never brought home that much gold.

"By the Nine ma! You'll have that tavern open in no time!" I said excitedly as I took the last bites of my breakfast.

"I do hope you're right son. I do hope you're right," she said as she finished the last bit off her plate.

Ma took our dishes and set them aside on a counter to wash later.

"Are you off to see Sengar today?" Ma asked as she began to clean the table.

"Yeah, I haven't seen him in a few days. I oughta pay the ol' codger a visit," I answered her.

"Well feel free to take a bit of money for yourself and buy anything you want. Could you just make sure to get some groceries for me before you come home?" she asked me.

"You got it ma," I said back to her.

"Thank you son, I have the day off today so I'm just gonna take it easy and catch up on my sleep. I should be awake by the evening."

"All right ma. You definitely earned it. I'll see you tonight," I said to her as I was getting ready to leave.

"Give me a hug," my ma said as she opened her arms.

We hugged and she kissed me on the cheek. Afterwards my mother shut the drapes on all our windows until the house was completely dark. She went upstairs and changed into her night gown and laid down in her bed, pulling her blanket over her.

I left the house and silently shut the door as I stepped outside. The sun was still shining in the streets of Bravil, and the common folk were going about their business. I made my way past the many worn and ramshackle houses in the streets as I headed for Sengar's place. The stench of the marshes surrounding the city filled my nose. I found it hard to believe Argonians actually enjoy swimming in that muck. Gods know what else they do in there.

I found myself daydreaming without a single care in the world. I was content and at peace for the first time in a while. Nothing could ruin this day.

"Hey! Grey-skin!" I heard an all too familiar voice shout in the distance. I slowly turned around.

"Shit," I said silently under my breath.

Quickly approaching me in a macho-like manner was Ghorzag, the Orc bully.


	6. Besting an Orc

Ghorzag developed a reputation over the years as the town bully. He was the strongest of all the children in Bravil, and he derived great pleasure in tormenting everyone he saw as smaller and weaker than himself. I was by far his favorite target however. The fact I was a Dunmer probably made me stand out from the rest of the children, and Elves aren't exactly known for their physical strength either. Whatever his reasons, Ghorzag made it his personal goal to make my life a living hell day after day. As he was 4 years my senior and much more physically capable than myself, it wasn't like I could do much to fight back. Every time I tried to defend myself, Ghorzag was always able to overpower me, and I would end up with a bloody nose or on the rare occasion even a couple broken bones. I can say with absolute certainty that Ghorzag is the one who started my burning hatred of all Orcs.

"Well well, looks like the puny little grey-skin is back on his feet already! I thought you would still be at home crying to your mommy!" Ghorzag barked loudly, his maniacal laughter echoing through my ears.

"I guess that just means I can pound your face in again even sooner!" Ghorzag continued to laugh, saliva dripping down his mouth.

"Piss off Ghorzag," I muttered in a weak and completely unintimidating tone of voice. "Haven't you done enough to me?"

"You've had enough when I say you've had enough!" Ghorzag screamed at me, "I won't be spoken to like that by a filthy peasant grey-skin! Someday I'm gonna get my father to deport your peasant ass back to Morrowind where your filthy kind belong! I suppose for now though, I can settle with beating your face in the ground every day."

Ghorzag raised his fists in front of his face, and I braced myself for the inevitable beating that awaited me.

The menacing Orc threw forward his right hand toward me, but it struck only the air as I swiftly moved my head. I backed away from him in an effort to gain some distance, but he kept moving toward me. All he had to do was corner me and I was finished.

He began to swing both hands at me, and I dodged every blow. The Orc was tough, but his moves were all too predictable. He would use all his strength at once in an effort to knock me down. If I dodged him, he would take a moment to catch his breath before repeating the process. If I could just avoid him long enough and get him to tire himself out, maybe, just maybe I would actually stand a chance of defeating him. After recovering his strength, Ghorzag swung at me again; he was becoming noticeably more irritated. After completely missing me again, he backed away slightly to catch his breath.

"Stop squirming grey-skin! You're only making this harder on yourself!" Ghorzag bellowed in an attempt to hide his fatigue.

The Orc let out an angry grunt and ferociously charged at me. He raised his left leg to try and kick me down, but I managed to grab the end of his leather boot and pull him to the ground. There was a thud as his large body hit the ground.

_I've hurt him! I've actually hurt him!_ I thought to myself.

_Now's my chance. I can finally beat this monster and end this once and for all!_

I got on top of him and mercilessly began striking his face with all of my might. The Orc's nose began to bleed, and he was also spitting out blood. Ghorzag head-butted me and I tumbled backwards onto the ground. He started to get back up, but not before I walloped him in the face with my foot.

The Orc let out a sharp cry of pain and I saw one of his razor sharp teeth that protruded from his mouth go flying through the air. Ghorzag fell back down to the ground, holding his hand over his mouth as he tried to stop the blood flowing down his chin.

"You're dead you filthy grey-skin! You hear me?! YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!" Ghorzag screamed at the top of his lungs, still in pain.

I couldn't believe it. After all these years I had finally gained the upper hand against Ghorzag. All I had to do now was knock him out and take my revenge for all the pain I suffered from his hands.

As I walked towards the Orc to end this brawl, I completely failed to notice the log that lay in front of me. I was so immersed in my glory; so full of pride that I had finally won. As I was merely inches away from him, my left foot kicked the log, and I tumbled forward to the ground as I completely lost my balance. I fell straight down, my face planted right in the dirt. As my face was still bandaged from my last fight with Ghorzag, the pain was increased tenfold.

As I tried to get back up, I felt Ghorzag's muscly hand grip me by the collar of my shirt. He lifted me off the ground and pinned me against the stone walls that surrounded the city.

"I'm gonna make you sorry you were ever born Elf!" the Orc barked, his left hand now tightly gripping my neck.

"You actually thought you could beat me?! You thought you could best me in a fight?! Ha! No one bests an Orc! No one! We're the strongest race in all of Tamriel! We cannot be beat by anyone, especially not weak little grey-skins like you!" Ghorzag gloated. I was desperately gasping for air, but I was unable to draw breath. Ghorzag's green fingers were wrapped tight around my neck.

_Well, at least I actually managed to hurt him this time. At least I didn't get completely pummeled as I usually do_. I thought.

"I'm gonna show you a whole new meaning of pain grey-skin! Not even your mommy will be able to help you now you worthless peasant!"

Ghorzag brought back his right hand, preparing to deal me the finishing blow. I shut my eyes and prepared myself for the punch. A few seconds passed, and I felt nothing; a few more seconds passed, still nothing. I could hear Ghorzag struggling.

I opened my eyes to see what was going on. Someone else had grabbed Ghorzag's hand, stopping him from hurting me anymore. The Orc loosened his grip and I fell to the ground.

"Leave the boy alone Ghorzag!" the voice boomed, "Why don't you go pick on somebody who's actually your size for once?! Or are you too much of a coward for that?" asked the voice which I now fully recognized.

"Sengar!" I shouted with joy. Never in my life was I happier to see the old man.

"Stay out of this old man! I'm gonna kick this grey-skin's ass so hard he won't be able to sit on it for an entire month!" bellowed Ghorzag, clearly frustrated by Sengar's interference.

"You so much as lay a finger on him boy, and I'll burn the flesh from your very bones. You should know better than to disrespect a mage," Sengar shot back to the Orc with a calm demeanor.

"How dare you! My father is the Captain of the Guard! I'll have him slap you in irons and hauled off to the Bravil dungeon!"

"Spare me your threats Orc. This whole city knows your father is as competent as a mudcrab. The only reason he even has that job is from all the years he spent kissing the Count's ass and acting as his pet dog! He's more likely to lock himself in the dungeon and lose the key than actually catch a criminal," the old man retorted, clearly unafraid of Ghorzag's threats.

I finally caught my breath and stood back up. Ghorzag's face showed clear frustration and irritation, unable to think of anything to say back to Sengar. He just glared at me.

"I'll be back for you grey-skin. Don't you dare think this is over! You hear me?! This isn't over!"

And with that, Ghorzag stormed off towards the castle. Humiliated by Sengar, I had the feeling I wouldn't be seeing him again for the rest of the day.

"Thanks a lot Sen. You just saved my ass there," I said to the old mage as we hugged each other.

"Think nothing of it dear boy!" said the old man in a jolly voice, "I wasn't about to let that Orc coward turn you into mashed potatoes!" Sengar said as he laughed joyfully. I couldn't help but laugh with him.

The pain was still throbbing in my face, and I felt like I was ready to pass out any second.

"I managed to get a few hits on Ghorzag, but it looks like I still couldn't beat him," I said, making no attempt to hide my disappointment.

"I would say you did more than get a few hits on him my dear Sargoth. You went and damn actually knocked his bloody tooth out!" the old man said, clearly impressed. He held the broken tooth in his hand, examining it closely.

"Well my face still hurts like a bitch and I'm gonna pass out here if I don't lie down somewhere soon," I said, holding my nose with my hand.

"Ah yes my friend that does look quite nasty. Let's get you back to my place and we'll have you feeling good as new."

Sengar swung my arm over his shoulder and walked me all the way back to his house. After opening his door and getting us inside, Sengar slowly laid me down on his couch. He went into one of his storage rooms and began sifting through his alchemical ingredients.

"Now you just wait right there my dear boy and I'll have a healing potion brewed up for you. We'll have you back on your feet quite shortly," I heard the old man say, "That is, if I can find any blisterwort. Where in Oblivion did I put that stupid blisterwort?"

As I laid on the couch waiting for Sengar, I just looked around his house, fascinated by all the neat stuff he kept.

I always loved going to Sengar's house. He had all sorts of cool stuff that a young boy my age could only dream of having. He lived in one of the larger houses in Bravil. On the main floor he had an enchanting table which he would use to closely examine the magical properties of weapons and armor. He would then completely destroy the object and gain all the knowledge of the particular enchantment it possessed. He could then take any ordinary weapon or piece of armor and apply that enchantment to it with the use of soul gems. I found it quite fascinating how you could just take any piece of equipment and make it so much stronger.

In another corner of his house was an alchemy table where Sengar would spend hours upon hours brewing all sorts of strange concoctions. He could make a number of different things such as healing potions, poisons that could be applied to weapons, magic resistance potions, and even medicines that could completely cure diseases. Sengar kept hundreds of different alchemical ingredients in a storage room, and quite often he would let me go through them and try experimenting with them to make my own creations. Most of the time though my own creations just ended in failures, and Sengar would just be standing there laughing at me. One particular instance I recall, he was showing me how to make a potion to increase resistance to frost. I don't exactly remember what ingredients I used, but when I mixed them together, it created an odor so foul we actually had to run out of the house and couldn't go back in for almost half a day. The old man never let me live that one down.

Upstairs was a very large and vast library, with walls lined with rows and rows of bookshelves, not one of them with a single empty space. Sengar had books about literally every topic there was something to be learned about and he would always let me borrow a few of them to take home with me. Sometimes I would have them completely read by the next day and would come back to take home some new books. Above one of the bookshelves was a peculiar painting of a woman. Sengar never once spoke of it, and I never really thought to ask him about it, but it always did pique my curiosity.

"All finished my boy! This should have you feeling good as new," Sengar came to me and handed me a red bottle.

"Thanks Sen," I said as I drank the entire bottle. I could feel my body completely rejuvenating, and all the pain was already starting to disappear.

"That better?" the old man asked me.

"Much. I really appreciate it Sengar."

"Anything for a friend."

Sengar was pretty much the only friend I had, and was the closest thing I had to a father. I had first met him when I was only about 3 years old. My mother had been out shopping one day and had me with her. When she wasn't looking I managed to wander off and eventually I ended up getting lost. After a few minutes I started searching frantically for her, and being unable to find her I got scared. I sat down in an alley and it was then that Sengar found me crying and asking for my mother. Sengar picked me up and we started looking for her. After a couple minutes we reunited; ma was obviously worried sick, and he was our closest friend ever since.

Sengar sat down in a chair across from me. He lowered his hood on his mage robes, revealing his long grey beard and ponytail. Sengar was a Breton, born in their homeland of High Rock. He came to Cyrodiil in his early 20's in order to study at the esteemed Arcane University in the Imperial City. He never really spoke much of his past, just that he was one of the Mages Guild's greatest students and one of the few to master all the schools of magic. He was even asked to be the Arch-Mage at one point; which he graciously declined. As Bretons have a bit of Elven heritage their lifespans are significantly longer than that of Imperials and Nords, and Sengar expanded his even longer with his mastery of magic. He was well over a century old, but he could still easily hold his own in battle. He was currently teaching me to use magic. I always enjoyed his lessons, but it's unbelievable how difficult it is to cast even the simplest of spells when you are just a novice mage.

"Well my boy, if you're feeling up to it how would you like to continue our lesson on flame spells?" Sengar asked me.

"You bet Sen! I think I've made some progress since our last lesson," I said excitedly.

"Splendid! We'll head down to the basement and we'll begin," Sengar said as he led me downstairs.

When we got downstairs Sengar began setting up some wooden practice dummies that I would practice my flame spells on. My spells weren't really that powerful yet and couldn't actually shoot them far enough to burn the dummies.

"Now, raise both hands and let us see if you remember what I taught you in our last lesson. See if you can shoot your flames a little bit closer to the dummies," the old man instructed me.

I raised both hands and began to concentrate. After about 10 seconds I managed to shoot just a couple measly sparks from my hands. I tried again, but I was only able to shoot little short bursts of flame at a time. I was growing slightly discouraged.

"Remember, to cast even the simplest spell your mind requires the greatest concentration. You must feel the spell within yourself; you must feel your magicka flowing all throughout your body. In a sense, you must become the spell itself. Only by achieving this will you be able to consistently cast powerful and effective spells," Sengar lectured to me.

I heeded the wizard's words and thought of nothing but my spell. I closed my eyes and imagined the flames shooting from my hands. I focused all my energy towards my hands, and I could feel my strength growing more powerful. After a few moments, I shot a beam of flames from my hands that lasted 3 whole seconds; almost reaching the dummies.

"Very good my boy, try it again!" the old man said proudly.

I raised my hands again, focused deeply like I did before and shot out another beam of flames and finally managed to burn one of the dummies.

"You're getting it my boy!" laughed the old man joyfully, "I knew you would get the hang of it! Now, let's see if you can burn all the dummies with just a single beam of flame."

That was definitely going to be a challenge, but I was confident and I was certain I would be able to do it. It was that moment we heard a knock on the door.

"Ahh it appears we have a visitor. Wait right here and I'll be back shortly," Sengar said as he went upstairs. I could hear him answer the door.

"Norvela! What a delight to see you my dear! How are you? Please come in!" Sengar beckoned as my mother entered.

"Hey Sen! I'm fine, how are you? Is my boy here?" my mother asked.

"He certainly is; we were just downstairs practicing his spells! I must say your son is going to be a fine wizard one day Norvela," the old man said as he brought my ma downstairs.

"What's up kiddo?" she asked me.

"Sengar's been showing me more about flame spells ma! I've gotten a lot better!" I told her excitedly.

"Why don't you show your mother what you just did a few minutes ago Sargoth?"

I raised both hands again, I remembered to focus and concentrate all my energy just like Sengar had told me. After a few moments I shot a large beam of flames from both hands and burned all the dummies. I stood there proud and astonished as I had finally been able to cast proper flame spells. I turned to face my mother; she smiled at me and I could see the pride in her eyes.

"Great job son! I had no idea I was raising a master wizard!" my mother said with glee, "Just make sure not to burn down the whole damn city will ya?" she joked and we all laughed.

"Yes your son is indeed a fine student. It's been my pleasure to be teaching him. It has been so long since I've had a protégé, I was beginning to wonder if I still had it in me to be a mentor," Sengar said as he gave me a pat on the back.

"Well I won't keep you boys any longer; I just wanted to see what you were up to. Remember to get my groceries on your way home Sargoth," ma said as she headed upstairs.

"Right ma."

"Take care of yourself Norvela. It was great seeing you; we must have a drink together at the tavern sometime," Sengar said to my mother.

"It was great seeing you too Sen, and yes we will absolutely do that. Take care of yourself now," and with that my mother left.

I stayed at Sengar's place for about another hour; I wanted to work on perfecting my flame spell now that I could finally cast it properly. When I finally decided it was time to leave, Sengar gave me a hug and walked me to the door.

"You did well today Sargoth. You should be proud of what you have accomplished. It is quite rare that someone of your young age picks up a spell like that so quickly. You have the potential to be a great and powerful mage; just be certain to never forget what you've learned. Magic is a lifelong pursuit, full of perils and also great rewards," the old man said to me, smiling.

"Thanks Sengar, I'll never forget what you've taught me. I look forward to our next lesson," I said to the old man as I opened the door.

"Take care my boy!" Sengar said as I left.

I made my way to the market to pick up ma's groceries. After buying a couple bags worth of food, I remembered ma said I could buy something for myself. So I thought I'd head over to the weapons and armor shop and see if there was anything cool there.

I walked inside and I could immediately smell all the fresh steel. The wall was lined with weapons of all sorts: swords, maces, clubs, axes, bows, arrows. Along the other wall were countless suits of armor which honestly looked like they were much too heavy for me. Nothing really grabbed my interest, everything there was pretty much just your average junk made from common steel or iron.

It wasn't until I was about to leave that I saw it. Hung up high in a back room was the most beautiful weapon I had ever seen. I walked over to it. All I could do was drop my jaw and stand before its exquisite beauty. I had never seen anything like it before.

_I have to have this_.


	7. Not Quite the Grey Fox

**A/N: Apologies if this story is a bit slow starting; I assure you it picks up soon. I'd like to say thank you to MightyMerlin, my sole reviewer so far (though hopefully that'll change). **

**The M rating applies strongly to this chapter as it contains the first of many explicit and graphic scenes in this story. Just a little word of warning.**

**Anyways, enjoy the chapter, it's a long one. And as always comments are appreciated :) **

"That's not for sale kid. I imagine it would be quite out of your price range anyways," the owner of the store said as he saw me staring. I'm pretty sure I half ignored him as I was still completely mesmerized.

Hanging on the wall above me was a beautiful golden bow made from Elven material. It had silver engravings along its frame which I assume were from some ancient language. The bow shimmered a certain radiance as I continued to stare at it; I swear I could even see my own reflection.

"Where did you get this?" I eventually asked the aged owner.

"I found that in an old Dwemer ruin over in Skyrim. It was lyin in a strange chest in some ancient burial chamber. I remember as soon as I took the damn thing out a group of spikes emerged from the floor, missing me by barely an inch. Those Dwemer sure do give a damn about protectin their artifacts. It's amazing how functional those traps still are, even after thousands of years," the owner rambled. I was tuning him out mostly.

"Why isn't it for sale?" I asked him.

"Oh this bow is much too dear to me to sell my boy. I was barely in my twenties when I found it. That bow has been with me through countless adventures and perils and has saved my hide on more than one occasion. I could never even think of partin with it," the old man explained.

"You can have anything else in the store though if you've got the coin."

I was very disappointed with the bow not being for sale. I didn't want anything else, I wanted the bow. I was starting to grow out of my old wooden one. I mean, I was ecstatic when my mother first showed it to me on my birthday, but it was starting to get worn out from all my practice and I felt it was time for an upgrade.

I continued to stare at the magnificent weapon for a few more minutes; the owner was becoming increasingly irritated, as he soon mentioned the store was closing and I should head home.

Eventually I was able to break my stare and I walked out of the store, completely crestfallen as I knew I would never be able to have that gorgeous bow. I walked along the dark and empty streets of Bravil until I came to my house.

When I came home I set my mother's groceries on the dinner table and I went upstairs and laid down on my bed. My mother was sitting across the room, running a brush through her long hair.

"Hey sweetie," my mother said as she turned in her chair towards me.

"Hey ma, I put your groceries downstairs on the table," I said to her.

"Thank you son, I really appreciate it. Did you get anything for yourself?"

"Nah, I went over to the weapons shop but nothing there caught my interest," I told ma, completely neglecting to mention the bow.

"Aw that's too bad," ma said, "You must be pretty tired from Sengar's lesson."

"Yeah I am pretty wiped; Sengar's lessons sure do take a lot out of you. You have no idea how much energy and concentration it takes to be able to cast something as simple as a flame spell," I explained to my mother.

"Well he says you're doing a great job," ma said, smiling, "You're a smart kid Sargoth. I just want you to know that I'm very proud of you. I know we don't exactly have the ideal life right now, but I think you have a very bright future ahead of you. You have the potential to do many good things for this world, and you have the smarts to be anything you want. Don't be afraid to live whatever dreams you may have son," ma said to me encouragingly.

How wrong she was. It almost pains me right now to think how wrong she was; my deeds have been anything but good. If my mother knew that her only son was going to become a cold-blooded murderer and bloodthirsty vampire, I doubt she would've been so proud of me. One of my biggest regrets is that I always feel I've let my mother down through the path I've chosen in my life. I know for certain this is not the life she would have wanted for me. My mother put herself through hell from the day I was born to ensure that I had an adequate life, to ensure that I did have a successful future. And all I managed to do was fuck that up by becoming one of the most dangerous criminals in Tamriel. If ma could see me now, I doubt she would be able to even call me her son.

My mother came over to me and kissed my cheek as she did every night.

"You look more and more like your father every day," my mother said with a smile, "Good night son, I love you. Sleep well," ma said and then she walked over to her bed.

"Can I ask you something ma?"

"Of course you can, what is it son?" ma asked as she turned back around toward me.

"Do you still…." I stuttered a little bit; I guess I was a bit afraid to ask what was on my mind, "Do you still love pa? I mean, you know, even after everything he did to you? Do you miss him?"

A look of sorrow quickly crossed my mother's face. She let out a deep, mournful sigh and she sat down next to me on my bed. I don't think she was expecting a question like that.

"Yes. I do miss him, and I do still love him," ma said in an almost whispering tone of voice.

"Why? I mean, how could you still love him when he was so mean to you?" I asked my mother, rather confusingly.

"I'm not quite so sure myself Sargoth. A person's emotions and feelings are a very complicated thing," ma said, trying to keep her composure.

"Your father was a beautiful man once; back when I first met him, before his love of skooma took over his life," ma began to explain, "I still remember the day your father asked me to marry him. We had spent hours swimming from Vvardenfell all the way to the island of Solstheim. We spent most of that day in the small village of Raven Rock in nothing but our bathing suits. He took me to a cute little pub where we had a romantic meal; the food was absolutely delicious and we spent most of the time just telling jokes and laughing. After we left the pub it was already evening, and we went to the beach and laid down on the soft ground, letting the waves of the sea crash against us. It was a clear and beautiful night; your father and I just held each other as we stared at the shining gaze of Masser and Secunda. Eventually your father told me to close my eyes, and after I opened them, your father was holding the most beautiful ring I had ever seen," my mother said as she lifted her hand to show me the ring she still wore. It was a very shiny silver color with small engravings imprinted along it. The ring was also dotted with dark blue sapphires which must have been worth a fortune.

"Your father held the ring before my face, and he asked me to be his wife. I was shocked but also overwhelmed with joy. My heart burned with an insatiable passion and love for your father, and I quickly accepted. He slid the ring onto my finger where it hasn't come off ever since," mother said as she stared at the ring.

"What was your wedding like?" I asked her curiously.

"Oh, it was perfect son. It was the kind of wedding every little girl dreams of when she's five years old. It was a beautiful morning on the thirteenth of Frostfall. I woke up, and the sun shone a bright and warm light through my window. The leaves were changing to colors of gold and crimson as autumn swept through the land. I spent all morning making sure I looked absolutely perfect for my special day. Every strand of my hair was in its place, I had put on just the right amount of makeup, and my dress was just the perfect size for me. The actual wedding was late in the afternoon. It was atop a large cliff that overlooked the sea. It really was the perfect day for such a joyous occasion; not a single cloud was in the sky and the sun was still shining bright," ma said to me, her smile returning to her face. I listened to her every word with fascination.

"There weren't too many people at the wedding, just both of our families and a few close friends. Finally the ceremony started, and your grandfather held me by my arm and led me to your father. After a few moments the priest finished speaking, and he officially announced that we were married; we were Andoril and Norvela Drelas. Your father kissed me, and that remains the most beautiful memory I have of him. Next to you being born, that was the happiest moment of my life," ma said as she finished her amazing story.

"When did pa change?" I asked my mother.

"It was just around two or three months after we were married. I found a small stash of skooma in your father's closet as I was cleaning the house. I confronted him about it and he was angry that I was going through his stuff. He eventually confessed that he was using the drug, and even worse, he was selling it," ma said, the gloomy look returning to her face.

"It all went downhill from there. The skooma turned your father into a raging monster; over time I didn't even know who he was anymore. He became a completely different person. I still can't believe how much a drug can just change a person like that. One minute they're your soul mate, and the next they're a violent maniac actually trying to kill you," my mother's voice began to tremble and she could no longer hold back the tears now streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry ma. I didn't mean to bring up painful memories and make you cry. I just wanted to know," I said, trying to comfort her.

"I know son, I know. It's not your fault," she said as she kissed me again and went to bed.

I could still hear my mother crying as she lay in her bed; I could hear her stifling her sobs. I felt awful asking her about pa, but I guess I was just simply too curious about him. Eventually my mother's sobs were replaced by snoring and I realized she was asleep.

I myself didn't sleep at all that night. My thoughts returned to the beautiful golden bow I saw in the store. It still bugged me to no end that the bow wasn't for sale; and even if it was it would have probably been far out of my price range. I just imagined myself outside, holding the bow in my hands. I imagined myself shooting down a deer or bear with it, or maybe even Ghorzag.

Over the next few days all I could think about was that bow. Whether I was practicing my swordplay or archery, or learning more magic with Sengar or even just walking through the streets, my mind never ceased to think about that magnificent weapon. I realized I was developing an obsession, and I decided I was going to have to resort to drastic measures to acquire the bow. If I couldn't buy it, I would have to obtain it "by other means".

_But I've never stolen anything before! What if I get caught? What if I get thrown in the dungeon? What will ma do to me? By the Nine, ma would kill me if she found out I was committing burglary_, I nervously thought to myself.

_No, you have to do this. There is simply no other way to get it. Besides, it's not like that old coot has anymore use for it! You would be doing him a favor taking it off his hands! He probably wouldn't even notice it was gone. How hard could it be? Just break in, swipe the bow and get out_, the other part of my mind thought.

I went home at supper time as the war within my own mind continued to rage. My mother was already home; and she was in a rather foul mood. She just finished a long shift at the Count's castle and she had a particularly bad day.

"I'm not making any supper tonight. You can have some leftovers from last night or you can cook something for yourself. I'm going to sleep," was all she said.

I decided to have some leftovers and I sat down at the table with my plate. As I was eating my dinner I decided I was going to go through with my plan. I was going to steal the bow.

As I finished the remaining bites of my cold dinner I started getting butterflies in my stomach. I was filled with great excitement as I was actually going to do something dangerous in my boring, monotonous life, but I was also very nervous. I couldn't help thinking of the consequences if I were to be caught. It didn't matter; my obsession with the bow clouded any logical and rational part of my mind. I was doing this. The bow was going to be mine.

I spent the next few hours preparing myself for the crime I was about to commit. My very first crime, out of many more. I managed to get a few hours of sleep until I woke up at midnight. I silently slipped out of my blankets and onto the floor. I crept over to my mother's bed to make sure she was still asleep. Then I stealthily moved down the stairs, and after slipping on my jacket, I opened the door ever so quietly and snuck outside.

The streets of Bravil were pitch black save for the odd torch; not a single soul stirred in the lonely city. I didn't even see any guards around. They were probably all passed out drunk anyways. That would surely make stealing the bow easier.

I began to make my way towards the shop; my mind was still conflicted. I kept telling myself to turn around and go home, forget the whole thing, to get back in my bed before mother realized I was gone. I ignored my common sense and continued toward the shop. After what seemed like an era of slinking through the dark streets, I saw the weapons shop. I walked around the perimeter a few times and looked through the windows to see if the owner might still have been awake. When I didn't see him, I decided it was time to try and find a way inside.

I tried the most obvious way first and turned the knob on the front door. Obviously it was locked. I decided that the only way I would be getting inside would be through one of the windows. I made my way to the back of the store and noticed one of the windows had a hole in the glass; a hole just barely big enough to fit my hand through. I scanned my surroundings again in case any guards actually decided to do their job and patrol the city. I slowly poked my hand through the hole, making sure to not cut myself on the glass. After a few moments I felt a latch on the window's other side. I flipped the latch and the window unlocked, and I easily lifted it up.

After climbing through the window, I was finally inside the store.

_So far so good_, I thought.

I was in one of the store's back rooms. I figured the bow had to be on the other side of the building. I slowly crept through the main room of the store where most of the merchandise was sold and made my way to the other back room, and there it was. The owner didn't even bother to lock it up or anything. It was still in the exact same spot I had seen it just a few days prior. I stared at the bow for a brief moment; I could hear it whispering my name. I saw a wooden chair in the corner and I used it to help me reach the bow. After a few moments I managed to successfully lift the bow off of its rack. I couldn't believe it; I actually had the bow in my hands. I was overwhelmed with joy as my plan actually succeeded. I looked at the weapon with pride as I again pictured myself shooting it.

Now this is where the plan completely screwed up. I could have just left with the bow through the front door or one of the windows and I probably would have gotten away with it. But I decided to be an idiot and keep looking around the store to see if perhaps there was anything else valuable to steal. I spotted a quite large coin purse sitting atop the highest shelf in the store. I took the same wooden chair and placed it against the wall and tried to reach for the shelf. When I realized I still couldn't reach the coin purse I decided to be an even bigger idiot and actually climbed the lower shelves. I was almost to the top when I lost my footing and fell right on a table with armor all over it. The armor crashed and banged as it fell to the floor, and my head was throbbing as I hit it on a shield.

"Who's there?!" I heard the owner's angry voice shout.

_Fuck._

I got off the table and back on my feet and made a break for the door. I got the door open and made it outside. After running only a few feet I could see the owner chasing after me; he was quick for an old fella. It was then that to my horror, I spotted a lone guard in the distance.

"STOP! THIEF! Guard! Catch that little thief!" the old man screamed.

The guard saw me and began to take chase. "Hey, kid! Stop! By order of the Count, I command you to stop!"

I panicked and began just mindlessly running in any direction to try and lose the guard. Despite his armor the guard was very fast and it didn't take him long to catch up to me. The guard tackled me to the ground and my face planted right in the dirt, again.

"Got ya you little urchin!" shouted the guard as he grabbed my shirt and forced me back on my feet. "Thought you could get away with burglary did ya? Thought you could just steal that old man's most prized weapon and no one would ever find out?" the guard asked as he snatched the bow from my hands.

"Please sir, don't lock me in the dungeon. I just wanted to look at it!" I begged the guard as he stared down at me menacingly. His helmet completely covered his face and the dark of the night made him look like some spooky monster. I actually started to sob.

"You have broken the law kid, and now you are going to face the Count's justice. Where do you live?" the guard asked.

"No! Please don't tell my mother! I won't do it again! I promise! Please don't tell her!" I pleaded to the guard; sobbing even harder.

"Don't waste my time boy! Where do you live?!" he asked again, "If you want to avoid the dungeon, you **will** tell me where you live!

I pointed in the direction of my house and the guard pulled me by the arm as we walked there.

If I had broken in that shop today, I would have been in and out in less than ten seconds. I am a Nightingale you see; an elite order of the world's greatest thieves. Nocturnal herself influences our luck and blesses us with unmatched abilities and skill in the art of larceny. We can bend the shadows to our will and make ourselves completely invisible to the naked eye if we so please. We move under the shadow of Nocturnal's cloak, and this allows a Nightingale to complete any theft with ease. Alas, I was just a foolish twelve year old boy at that time, and let's just say…. I wasn't quite the Grey Fox in terms of my skill in theft. That was not my proudest moment.

We finally arrived at my house and the guard loudly banged on the door, he was still gripping my arm tightly. After a few seconds my mother answered the door.

"Are you Norvela Drelas?" the guard asked my mother.

"By Talos! What's he done?!" my mother shrieked as she saw me next to the guard.

"Mrs. Drelas, I caught your son trying to steal a valuable bow from the weapons store. He broke in but the owner caught him, and it was then I was alerted to the situation," the guard explained.

My mother gasped in disbelief; her face soon took on a look of disgust. My stomach filled with absolute terror, unsure of what she was going to do.

"Sargoth Drelas! You get in this house this instant!" my mother screamed as she yanked me right out of the guard's hand.

"This is your son's first offence, and I would hate to throw such a young child into the dungeon. So instead of jail time, your son is going to pay off his debt by working in the store. For an entire month," the guard offered.

"He'll be there!" my mother firmly told the guard before I even had a chance to speak.

"Splendid, I'll go speak to Marcellus right now and work out all the details," the guard said.

I couldn't believe this was happening. I knew I shouldn't have gone through with my plan; it was a terrible idea from the start.

"I expect you to be there first thing in the morning boy. First thing, or it's the Bravil Dungeon for you. Good night Mrs. Drelas, and sorry to wake you," said the guard as he started to leave.

"Thank you, sir. Good night to you as well," my mother said as she shut the door. She then threw me in a chair and I awaited whatever she had in store for me.

"What in the name of Oblivion possessed you to break into a store and steal a bow?!" my mother furiously asked me, "What the hell is wrong with you boy?! I didn't raise you to be a thief! I taught you better than this!" I never heard ma this angry before. Her booming voice shook me and I completely broke down and started bawling.

"I'm sorry ma! I'm sorry! I just wanted it so badly. It won't happen again!" I sobbed to her.

"I am so disappointed in you Sargoth. How could you do this to me?! After everything I've done for you, after all the sacrifices I've made to give you a roof over your head and food in your stomach, **this **is how you thank me?! How could you fucking do this to me?!" my mother continued to shout and she also started crying.

I couldn't even think of anything to say to her. I just wanted the bow, I didn't want to hurt ma like this.

"I am far too tired to continue screaming at you. Go to bed right now. Tomorrow you'll start your work at Marcellus' shop," ma said.

"Oh please ma, don't make me go! I swear I'll never do it again! Please!"

"You're damn right I'm gonna make you go. You need to be taught a lesson! Now go to bed!" she commanded me again.

I slowly trudged up the stairs and flopped onto my bed. I knew this was going to be the longest and most grueling month of my life. I was already imagining all the jobs I was gonna have to do. As I laid in my bed, again unable to sleep, I wished I was dead. More than anything that moment, I just wanted to die.

* * *

_Present Day_

"My lord, the new cattle have arrived," said Garan Marethi as he walked into my throne room; almost startling me. "I thought you would like to inspect them yourself before we lock them up with the rest of the thralls,"

"Ah yes, very good Garan," I said as I took a sip from my goblet; full of fresh blood. I set my quill in the bottle of ink and put aside my memoir on my desk. "How many are there?" I asked Garan.

"Five, my lord, there are three males: an Imperial, an Argonian and a Nord, and two females: a Nord and a Bosmer," Garan answered. "Orthjolf has taken the pleasure of _entertaining _them while we await you."

"Tell the court I will be there in a few moments," I commanded Garan.

In the main hall of Castle Volkihar, most of my court of vampires were feasting upon the mangled, but still living bodies of their victims. Their cries and screams constantly echoed throughout the halls; the floors were soaked red in blood and piles of rotten and decayed bones littered most of the building.

Orthjolf and Vingalmo were bickering at each other as usual.

"Oh Orthjolf my brutish friend, you simply have no taste in women do you? The Bosmer is clearly the more attractive one!" Vingalmo proclaimed, referring to one of the female cattle. The five thralls were standing in a line in the middle of the hall; their hands bound behind their backs.

"Ah Vingalmo, always the milk drinker aren't you? The Nord is most clearly the more attractive one. I bet she puts up a real fight in the bedroom, don't you Nord? All Nord women like it rough in bed," Orthjolf argued back to the Altmer.

"Don't make me laugh Orthjolf! When was the last time a woman got in bed with you? _Willingly_ I should say," Vingalmo shot back.

"Blasted Elf! I'm going to make you pay for that!" Orthjolf shouted in anger.

"Oh would both of you just shut up?" Fura Bloodmouth angrily demanded, "You better keep your hatred of Elves to yourself Orthjolf; you serve one now. Harkon may have let your blatant racism be excused, but I assure you if Lord Sargoth hears you talking like that, you will be no better off than these thralls," Fura explained to Orthjolf.

"Aye, you're right Fura. I meant no disrespect to our lord. I just want this milk drinker to admit that I am the superior vampire," Orthjolf said.

"Hmph!" was all Vingalmo said back.

I finally made my way down the stairs of the castle and into the great hall, where the whole court bowed before me. I slowly walked toward the thralls and looked at each of them one at a time.

"**This** is what you bring me Garan?!" I said angrily and unimpressed, "By Sithis, I could have found better thralls just by digging in a graveyard!" I said to him.

"Ronthil is the one who found these my lord. I had nothing to do with their capture," Garan defended himself.

"Please don't be angry with me my lord, I was simply following orders. You know I live to serve," the little Bosmer said. This only served to irritate me further.

"I suppose they'll have to do. Competition with our thin-blooded brethren is quite high, and while I am trying to make peace with them and undo years of Harkon's mistreatment of them, I'm afraid many still continue to steal our cattle," I said as I calmed down.

"Fura, take these new thralls down to the dungeons with the rest of them. I want them ready to serve us by tomorrow morning," I commanded her.

"Yes my lord, as you wish," Fura complied as she began to lead the thralls downstairs.

"Except for you," I said, pointing to the Nord female.

"M..m..m..me?" she asked with terror in her voice.

"Yes, you," I said as I walked and stood in front of her. I began to examine her closely.

She was completely naked; her body shook violently in my presence. She had dark blonde hair that reached just past her shoulders and light blue eyes that were streaming tears like a waterfall. She was desperately trying to free her bound hands but to no avail.

"You have a name, girl?" I asked her.

A few seconds passed and she remained silent.

"Answer me, dog!" I shouted as I struck her across the face.

"S…S..Sorah. My name is Sorah," she whimpered.

"How old are you Sorah? Do you have a family?" I asked her curiously.

"I..I…I'm twenty-one. I have a husband and two children. Oh please let me go home to them! I miss them so much! I won't tell anyone, I promise!" Sorah begged me.

I laughed quietly.

"I have no intention of letting you go, girl. Your family are going to be nothing but a lost memory. For the rest of your life you will serve as my personal thrall; your blood will nourish my insatiable thirst," I said to the sobbing girl as I placed my hand on her rear.

"Please, no! Let me go," she pleaded again as she trembled at my touch.

I brought my hand around to the front of her body and down to her thigh. The smoothness of my new thrall's flesh was most pleasing to me. Her body was now convulsing as I brought my hand up her leg and began rubbing her labium. Sorah's whimpers grew louder and fluid leaked from her as I inserted a finger into her vagina. As I fingered her clitoris with one hand, I took the other and caressed her buttocks. Sorah's cries were a mixture of fear and pleasure.

"You're mine, girl." I said silently into her ear as I now brought my hands up her stomach and made my way up to her chest. I took her bare and ample breasts in my hands and began squeezing them aggressively. I then pinched her nipples which stood firm and erect as I circled my fingers around them.

Finally I slowly moved behind her. I moved her long flowing hair; exposing the nape of Sorah's neck. As she continued to cry, I extended my fangs from my mouth and sank them into her neck. Sorah let out a sharp cry of pain as her warm blood flowed down my throat. Feeding off her gave me an intense euphoria I hadn't felt in years. I tore off a piece of her flesh as I removed my fangs from her neck.

"Nothing like the taste of fresh meat," I said snickering at Sorah.

"You monster! Please stop this! I'll give you whatever you want, just please let me go! Stop hurting me!" Sorah cried.

"Oh but we're just getting started my dear," I said to Sorah as I licked the remaining blood from my lips. "Garan, take her to the throne room. We will complete her _initiation_ in there," I commanded.

"Yes Lord Sargoth," Garan obeyed.

Garan led Sorah up to the throne room as I walked in front of them. After opening the door and all three of us were inside, I simply pointed to the torture rack that stood against the blood-stained wall. Garan proceeded to tie Sorah's hands and feet to the rack and he rotated it so she was now upside down.

"Stretch her," I said as I shut the door again.

"With pleasure, my lord," said Garan in a sly tone of voice.

Garan turned the wheel on the torture device and Sorah's bonds pulled her arms away from her towards the ground. I could hear her muscles tear as the rack stretched her arms beyond what anybody would find comfortable. Sorah let out short grunts of pain, and I had a sadistic grin on my face, as did Garan.

I stood at the other end of the rack by Sorah's feet; I turned the other wheel on the rack and the ropes holding her feet began to stretch her legs. Sorah's pain only added to my pleasure; her painful grunts growing ever louder. Garan and I stood for a moment and looked at Sorah who was now being stretched both ways. Garan walked up to her and leaned in close to her ear.

"You should be grateful you pathetic wench. To serve the most powerful vampire in Skyrim is truly a tremendous honor. None of the master's last potential candidates even made it this far. Most of them died before even making it to the rack. You're stronger than they were," Garan said. Sorah was obviously not comforted by this, and her crying continued.

I stretched her just a little bit further as Garan began fondling her breasts. I grinned as I heard her muscles tear and strain even harder. I wanted to see how much pain this girl could take.

"Would you like a taste of her Garan?" I asked my fellow Dunmer vampire.

"I would be honored, my lord," he said graciously.

I drew the Blade of Woe I kept hidden in my cloak. I walked up to Sorah's stretched body, her eyes grew wide with fear, and I made a long incision across the width of her stomach. Sorah screamed louder than she ever did before, and Garan began to suck her blood which poured from her wound.

"A fine thrall you have chosen, master. I hope she brings you years of pleasure. Shall we proceed to mark her now, Lord Sargoth?" Garan asked me.

"Yes my friend. She has proven worthy to bear the mark," I answered him.

I walked over to the fireplace that sat across from my throne, and from it I drew a branding iron that bore the face of our patron, Molag Bal at the end of it that glowed orange as it was searing hot from the flames. The metal began to sing as I brandished it, and I slowly moved toward Sorah who looked in terror as she realized what was coming.

"No! Please no! Why are you doing this to me?! Stop! I'm begging you!" Sorah pleaded.

"You belong to me Sorah; you are my property. And you shall bear the mark of our clan to signify your never-ending servitude to me," I said to her.

Sorah's whimpers grew more and more frantic as I drew closer to her. I nodded to Garan as I finally stood over Sorah, and I then proceeded to slowly press the flaming hot iron against her bare flesh just above her vagina.

Sorah let out a blood-curdling scream that echoed throughout the entire castle and possibly even beyond; it was truly music to my ears. I pressed the iron harder and harder against Sorah's charred flesh as she writhed in excruciating agony; the face of our patron becoming more embedded into her skin.

She actually passed out from the pain as smoke began to emit from her body. Garan quickly brought her back with a spell and put a hand over her mouth to muffle her screams. The iron continued to sizzle against her burning flesh.

After about a minute and a half I finally removed the branding iron from Sorah's skin; the demonic face of Molag Bal now fully and permanently imprinted onto her.

"Well Sorah, you passed the test and are now officially my thrall. Now begins your life of serving my eternal bloodlust," I said to her, "Garan, take her off the rack and throw her in my cage. Put a gag on her though; I wish to continue my memoir and her crying is going to be most irritating," I ordered.

Garan loosened Sorah's bonds and dragged her tortured body to the cage that sat beside my fireplace across from my throne. She didn't move a single muscle as Garan gagged her and locked the cage. All we could hear now were the muffled sounds she made through the gag.

"I must say my lord, as cruel as Harkon may have been, he never did **that** to his thralls," Garan said to me.

"Yes, and he's dead now isn't he?" I gloated to Garan.

"Yes my lord. You proved that you are indeed the most powerful vampire among us. Molag Bal himself even rewarded your victory by granting you the gift of pure-blood vampirism," Garan said.

"And I didn't even have to experience the degrading ritual the Daughters of Coldharbour have to go through; just a bite on my neck and that was it," I said to Garan and he laughed.

"Well my lord, if you require nothing further of me I shall leave you with your new pet," Garan said as he opened my door and left my throne room before shutting it again.

I returned to my desk and sat down; grabbing the quill from the ink bottle. I looked at Sorah once more who was lying down on the cold steel of her cage. She cried for a few more minutes before falling asleep; what she just endured would make anyone tired I suppose. I opened my memoir and set the quill down on the page.

* * *

The sun rose early in Bravil the next morning. I opened my eyes after a dreadful sleep and sighed as I instantly remembered the month that was ahead of me. After quickly eating a red apple for breakfast I slipped on my jacket; ma was sitting in a chair in the corner reading a book.

"I'm going ma," I told her.

She didn't even acknowledge me or take her eyes off the page. You know you fucked up when your own mother gives you the cold shoulder and refuses to speak to you. After realizing she was ignoring me I slowly opened the door and stepped outside and began to make my way to Marcellus's shop.

The walk to Marcellus's place had to be the most dreadful moment of my life so far. Even Ghorzag's poundings didn't hold a candle to the terror that dwelled in the pits of my stomach. I opened the door to the shop and behind the counter stood Marcellus, the elderly Imperial shop owner I just tried to rob a few hours prior.

"So you're the filthy wretch that tried to make off with my bow are ya?!" Marcellus asked me angrily. "I shoulda figured you'd pull a stunt like that; the way your eyes were glued to the bow."

His scolding of me only added to my shame.

"Typical grey-skin," Marcellus muttered, making no attempt to hide his racism.

Marcellus was a retired Captain in the Imperial Legion, and he therefore possessed a loud booming voice that must have sent shivers down the spines of any platoons that had to serve under him. I became all too familiar with that voice over the next month.

"All right listen up boy! Now frankly, I'd rather your ass just be tossed in the dungeons and be done with it! But since that guard man insists on showing you mercy, I guess you'll be helpin me around here," Marcellus began to explain.

"So here's how things work round here! Ya come in the mornin and ya don't leave till eight every night. You're gonna be tendin the counter and helpin any customers that need somethin. You get half an hour fer lunch every afternoon and a break in the evenin! Anything else I might need, I expect you to do it promptly without question!" Marcellus continued to explain.

"Ya hear me boy? You do whatever I tell you! You eat when I tell ya to eat, ya speak when I tell ya to speak, and ya shit when I tell ya to shit! Now, ya got any questions before gettin started?" I felt like I was about to soil my pants as Marcellus boomed at me.

"No sir," was all I could say.

Most of my time in Marcellus' shop was spent looking after the counter, helping the few customers that came, counting inventory and also keeping track of profits. He also made me clean the basement fairly often and sometimes I would find nests of rats burrowed behind the decaying wood of the walls. I would lay poison along the floor and I also had to clean up any droppings the rats left. Marcellus would make me sweep the floor several times a day and polish all the swords and armor he kept. It was definitely menial and degrading work, and I was counting the days until my servitude was over.

Marcellus actually turned out to be a nice old coot, once I got past his rough exterior. As I worked he would sit and tell me all sorts of fascinating tales of his time in the Legion. He spoke of his travels all across Tamriel and all the battles he had fought in. I was actually beginning to admire the old man; he lived the life I so desperately wanted.

Finally it was my last day working in the shop; Marcellus actually started paying me a couple weeks into my servitude. As I finished lining up all the merchandise and making sure all the floors were clean, Marcellus stood there with a large grin on his face.

"Ya did a damn good job Sargoth. It's a shame yer all done now, but you did your duties to the letter and I can't thank ya enough," Marcellus kindly said.

"I'm sorry again for trying to steal from you. I don't know what I was thinking," I apologized for the millionth time.

"The past is where it should be boy. We all make mistakes in our lives; I know I've made my fair share of em. Yer a good kid Sargoth, and I want ya to know yer welcome in here anytime," said Marcellus.

"Wow, thanks Marcellus. I appreciate it," I said as I turned to leave.

"Wait," the old man said.

I turned back around and Marcellus went to the back room. He came back out holding the golden bow in his hand, and he walked up to me and motioned for me to take it.

"It's yours," he said softly.

"What? You…you're…giving it to me? The bow I tried to steal?" I asked flabbergasted.

"I got no more use for her. I'm not as young as I used to be and my adventuring days are long past me. I'd rather it be with someone I know will use it and take good care of it," Marcellus said with a tear forming at his eye.

"I don't know what to say."

"Don't say nothin Sargoth. Just promise to look after it," was all he said.

"I will Marcellus, and thank you," I said graciously.

I ran home with pure joy in my heart as I couldn't wait to show ma. I opened the door and I was greeted by a smiling mother who just finished making a large supper.

"Well look who's finally home!" she said as she opened her arms.

I ran to her and we embraced; it was nice not having her mad at me anymore.

"Marcellus gave me the bow ma! He said I could have it!" I excitedly told her as I slung it off my back to show her.

"Wow that is beautiful son! Now** I** wanna steal it!" she joked as she sat at the table.

My mouth watered as I eyed the enormous feast ma had prepared for us.

"Dig in, you earned it!" was all she said.

I sat down with her and ate the most delicious supper I'd had that whole month.


	8. Ashes in the Wind

**A/N: Just wanna say thanks to MightyMerlin & EternityIsNow for your awesome reviews. Your support is much appreciated.**

**There's strong violence in this chapter and naughty language. Enjoy :)**

* * *

I still remember my first murder; the first time I willfully took another life. I remember the adrenaline that rushed through my veins and the rage that burned inside me, the rage that drove me to spill the blood of another living being. Even today, hundreds of years later I still feel that invigorating rush right before a kill, although it is never quite as intense as that first time. And then there was the feeling afterwards. Actually, I think it would be more accurate to say the lack of feeling. When you kill somebody, you learn to shut off certain emotions; I think it's a way of keeping yourself sane if you ask my opinion. At first it doesn't even seem real; like everything that just happened was all a dream. Then after a few minutes the reality sets in; someone else is dead, and you are responsible. You just ended a life, and there is no turning back, and all you feel is pure numbness; no sadness, no anger, no guilt, no joy. Nothing. It is in this moment that you realize you've just lost a little bit of your humanity, and where your heart used to be, there is only ice as cold as winter's harshest breath. I know that this was the moment that started me down my dark path.

It was the fifteenth of Sun's Height; just a little over a month after my fourteenth birthday. My mother surprised me on my birthday with a beautiful golden quiver to go along with my bow that Marcellus gave me along with some new arrows. I had the bow for two years at that point, and I was just as in love with it as the day I saw it hanging in Marcellus' store. I went outside almost every day with it and I would spend hour after hour practicing. I had moved on to shooting moving targets now; I was good enough that I could bring down a deer or even an elk with just a single arrow. As Marcellus was also quite a proficient hunter back in his day, he had taught me how to track down big game animals and even skin them afterwards. So quite often I would come home with quite a lot of meat for me and my mother, and she would make the most delicious, mouth-watering meals you had ever tasted with it. Ma would always be very grateful when I brought something home as meat was not cheap, and she was able to save loads of gold through my hunting.

The day started quite normally like any other, the bright sunrise was shining through our window, birds were nested in the trees and singing like they did every morning. I could slightly hear the sound of the other children laughing as they played their usual games of tag or hide-and-seek.

I opened my eyes and saw my mother relaxing on her bed reading a book; her favorite pastime, besides cooking of course. She was lying on top of her wool blankets, wearing her favorite little red night gown. Her green skin glimmered as the morning sun shone on her.

"Morning ma," I said to her, stretching my arms and letting out a long yawn.

"Morning son, how did you sleep?" she asked as she turned toward me and smiled; resting her book on her lap.

"Pretty good actually, which is kind of nice considering how bad I usually sleep," I said with a bit of a chuckle.

"Aw, I wish there was something I could do to help, I really do. Is there anything bothering you lately? Anything you wanna talk about?" she asked in her soothing tone of voice.

"Or… perhaps there's a _girl _you've had your eye on?" she teased, giggling joyfully.

Good ol' ma, always doing her best to cheer me up whenever I felt down in the dumps.

"No ma, of course not!" I quickly said back, trying to hide my now blushing cheeks.

"Sargoth Drelas, is that a blush I see on your face?" she asked playfully, now laughing even harder.

"Stop it ma, you know it's embarrassing when you do this," I said now completely flustered.

"You should see yourself in a mirror; your face is redder than a roasted mudcrab!" ma said as she was now clutching her stomach in uncontrollable laughter.

"Ma! Come on, enough is enough!" I begged her, still uselessly trying to hide my embarrassment.

"Okay, fine," she paused, "As soon as you tell me who she is," she blurted out.

"MA!" I yelled as I threw my pillow at her.

The pillow landed on her face and I could hear her now muffled laughter underneath it.

_Why does she insist on tormenting me so?_

"Say, shouldn't you be getting ready for work ma?" I asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

My mother quickly took the pillow off of her face and her laughter finally stopped.

"Ugh, yes unfortunately I do," she said as her face contorted to a grimace. "Way to ruin the fun," ma said as she finally got up from her bed.

"Yeah, fun for _you_," I shot back as I also got up.

Ma chuckled as she got dressed.

"Would you mind making something for yourself for breakfast? I'd love to make you something but I've gotta get going pretty soon here," she asked me as she started brushing her hair.

"Sure thing ma, don't worry about it," I answered her.

"Luckily the Count is away courting some lovely maiden in some faraway village, so I won't have to deal with his slimy hands all over me," my mother smirked. "I heard he may even be marrying this girl, so hopefully that means she can be his play-thing instead of me," she sighed with a glimmer of hope.

"You'll be okay ma. This isn't gonna last forever; something better will come along for us," I said, trying my best to comfort her.

My mother just smiled at me and we hugged for a brief moment. As she went to kiss me I caught a glimpse of one of her scars that my father gave her than ran beneath her lip to her jawline.

"Well, I'm off. You gonna practice with your bow today?" ma asked me.

"Yep I think so."

"Have fun, and as always be careful. Love you," ma said as she blew me a kiss and left the house.

After making myself something to eat, I grabbed my bow along with my new quiver and slung them over my back. I slipped on my jacket and headed out the door. A cool wind blew through my hair as I stepped outside, and I could see a group of about five or six children running through the streets still playing their games; games that I was never invited to partake in. I tried not to let it bother me though. Practicing with my bow was way more fun than their stupid games anyway, and at least I was learning something useful. Those kids were all spoiled brats who were gonna grow up to be lazy and useless failures anyway.

"Mornin Sargoth, off to practice your bow?" the gate guard asked as I approached the large gate that served as Bravil's main entrance and exit.

"Uh-huh," I replied.

"Mighty fine day for it if I do say so myself. If I wasn't on guard duty I'd probably do some shootin' myself. Ah well, a man's gotta earn a living right?" the guard said as he opened the gate for me.

I gave the guard a slight smirk as I walked through the gate and outside the mighty stone walls enclosing the city.

* * *

As I stepped outside into the lush wilderness of Cyrodiil, I let the crisp summer air fill my nostrils. The trees swayed as the cool breeze blew through the gorgeous evergreen leaves. The birds were still singing their merry tunes without a single care or worry in the world, and swarms of butterflies danced in the wind as they circled and admired the radiant, colorful flowers that bloomed across the vast fields. As I stood atop the slope of the crescent hillside I could see the enormous figure of the Jerall Mountains looming on the distant horizon. The mountains shimmered a stunning golden light as the sun reflected off the white blanket of snow that draped across their entirety. I knew that just beyond those mountains was Skyrim, the province of the proud Nord race. I had heard countless tales of the harsh, freezing climates and the endless winters that swept through the land. Skyrim was not nearly as temperate, and certainly not as hospitable as Cyrodiil, but I still longed to journey there someday. For Skyrim is also a place of many natural beauties and wonders, and the auroras that line the night sky is truly a remarkable sight that everyone should have the pleasure to behold at least once.

As I continued to stare into the distance, a feeling of peace and serenity filled my heart. As the sun's warmth caressed my body, I closed my eyes for a moment and just listened to the wonderful sounds of nature fill my ears.

As a vampire, it is moments like these that I sorely miss. To never again be able to fully feel the warm and calming embrace of the sun is something that truly pains me indeed. Molag Bal demands a steep price for our immense powers, and quite often I find myself longing to be mortal once more; if even only for a brief moment, so that I can once again gaze upon the beauty of a looming sunset.

After a moment I opened my eyes and made my way to where I had my targets set up that I would practice my archery with. I thought I would just warm up a little with those before going for the living targets. I slung the bow off my back with one hand, and with the other I grabbed an arrow from my golden quiver and nocked it in place. As I pulled back the bowstring, I could feel my hand brushing against my face. My shoulder length hair blew against the breeze as I was lining up my shot. After a few seconds, I took a deep breath and released my arrow and watched it fly towards the stationary target. The arrow landed directly next to the bull's-eye, and I stood with a smirk on my face as I readied the next arrow. I took another deep breath and let my arrow fly. A strong gust of wind blew just as I released the arrow and completely threw off my shot, and the arrow landed in the outer rim of the target.

As I muttered an obscenity under my breath, I removed a third arrow from my quiver and nocked it into place; this was going to be a perfect shot. I took longer than usual to make this shot, but I wanted to make sure everything was lined up properly and that there was no wind to mess up my shot. After spending a good minute or two aligning everything just right, I let the arrow fly, and it landed dead center in the bull's-eye. I laughed with pride as I walked to the target to inspect where my arrow had landed. As I was now satisfied and felt warmed up and ready, I decided it was time to begin my hunt.

I made my way into the lush forest as I lowered myself to a crouch; making sure to tread silently so as not to scare off potential prey. The tall grass tickled my skin as I delved deeper among the towering trees; my eyes never ceasing, never blinking as I continued to prowl the woods for anything worth shooting.

Several moments passed and I had not seen a single animal anywhere. I began to grow discouraged and decided to rest on a rock and wait to see if anything would come to me. I was startled briefly by a crow that cawed as it landed in a tree above me.

Five minutes passed and still nothing came; I could feel my impatience building inside me. As I was ready to just give up and leave, I could hear the ground begin to rustle and twigs snapping. As I looked in the direction of the sound, I could hear it growing louder, and eventually, I could see the absolute largest elk I had ever seen so far making its way toward me.

I gazed in astonishment; my mouth was wide open as I stared at the monstrous beast. I silently readied an arrow and lifted my bow as the animal stopped walking and began to feast upon the grass. My heart threatened to pound its way out of my very chest, and sweat was dripping down my face as I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I tried to keep my cool as best I could as the tension of the bowstring against my fingers increased. After several minutes of lining my shot perfectly with the animal, I released the string from my fingers and let my arrow fly with a mighty whoosh through the air.

The elk yelped in pain as the arrow struck its thick hide. Unfortunately my aim was off, and the arrow only hit its stomach. While the animal was hurt, my shot was not fatal, and it immediately sprinted away from the area and made its way deeper into the woods.

After letting another obscenity pass my lips, I took a couple deep breaths and decided to follow it and see if I could find it again. After maybe twenty minutes of slowly skulking my way through the woods, I came across the beast again; I could still see the blood running from its pierced torso. I reached for another arrow and after nocking it against the bow, I concentrated harder than I ever did before. I wasn't going to make the same mistake again; this was going to be the kill shot.

I was so focused on the wounded target that I didn't even hear the footsteps approaching behind me. After taking several breaths and regaining my composure, I was ready to take down the enormous animal.

As I was merely seconds away from making my shot, I felt a sharp blow to the back of my head. I grunted in pain, and the elk ran off as I tumbled to the ground; I literally had to use every ounce of strength inside me to keep from passing out.

"Found you grey-skin! I told you I'd be back for you!" I heard the booming voice of Ghorzag shout.

The last time Ghorzag picked on me was two years ago when Sengar stopped him as he was about to finish me off. Ghorzag's father was training him to join the ranks of the Imperial Legion, and eventually he was to follow in his footsteps and become Bravil's Captain of the Guard. I still shudder at the thought if that had have actually happened. Regardless, Ghorzag was kept busy and didn't have much time to torment me. But that day, he returned for his revenge, and he was more ferocious than I had ever seen him.

"We have a score to settle, you and I!" Ghorzag continued, "And without that stupid old man here to save your sorry hide, I can make sure this forest becomes your resting place!" the Orc sneered with a sickening laughter.

"Let it go Ghorzag! I beat you last time and you know it. Leave before you do something you'll regret," I calmly said to Ghorzag as he drew closer.

"What was that? Did the puny grey-skin just tell me what to do?!" Ghorzag said condescendingly, and he then proceeded to deliver another sharp blow across my face. I dropped the bow as I plummeted to the ground.

Ghorzag walked towards the bow and looked at it briefly before picking it up.

"No! Give it back!" I panicked.

"A fine weapon you got here elf. Marcellus sure is a dumb old fool if he gave this to you. It's probably worth more than you are!" Ghorzag said as he stared at my bow.

"I said give it back you oversized piece of shit!" I yelled as he continued to grope my prized bow; my hand clutched across my bleeding face.

"You want it back? Fine. You beat me in another fight, and the bow's yours. You really think you're better than me? Prove it!" Ghorzag challenged.

_Fuck, not again!_

I stumbled to my feet; my head was spinning and I was still completely disoriented from Ghorzag's blows. The pain in my head was throbbing as if a hundred steel war hammers were pounding against it.

"I don't wanna fight, Ghorzag," I said to him.

"I don't really give a shit what you want!" the Orc bellowed as he struck me yet again across my face.

Blood was pouring out from my nose and mouth. As I desperately tried to ease the pain in my face, I realized that this was nothing like all the other times I dealt with Ghorzag. He was pissed, and this wouldn't be over until one of us was a corpse.

I felt a sudden jolt of energy surge within me, and I sprang to my feet and charged the Orc; landing a blow directly to his nose. I saw a bit of blood spill to the ground, but he was mostly unaffected by my punch.

The Orc let out an angry battle cry and rammed me head-first into a tree. I felt my organs shift inside me as my back smacked against the tree's bark. I regained my footing and desperately started swinging at Ghorzag. After dodging my every blow, Ghorzag raised his boot and landed a kick right on my stomach. I fell to the ground, clutching my stomach as I felt like my intestines were going to explode.

_Shit, he's way faster than last time! If I don't think of something soon I'm history!_

"You call this a fight, grey-skin?! Ha! I've hit dogs that were tougher than you! To think I actually almost lost to you two years ago," Ghorzag taunted.

_What kind of sick fuck are you?_

After struggling yet again to get up, I focused on just avoiding Ghorzag's attacks. The Orc grunted as he swung at me, and I finally managed to dodge him. Ghorzag continued to swing at me, missing me every time, and when I saw an opportunity I delivered an uppercut right to his jaw. I ran behind him and proceeded to jump onto his back, and I began repeatedly striking his head as I wrapped my other arm around his neck.

Ghorzag managed to shake me off after a moment, but my blows had hurt him, and he collapsed on one knee to the ground; I could hear him panting.

Ghorzag started to get back up, and I grabbed a stone and hurled it at him. The stone snapped in half as it hit the Orc's burly head and he was now lying on the ground; his face now just as bloody as mine.

I ran toward Ghorzag to beat him down further before he got a chance to get back up. As I prepared to deliver a kick to his temple, Ghorzag unexpectedly brandished a dagger hidden in his belt and drove it through my femur.

I yelled in pain and clutched my wound; desperately trying to stop the blood now seeping through my pants. I fell back down to the ground, and in that moment I knew Ghorzag had won. He had a weapon, and I would have been a fool to even try and charge him now. Ghorzag got up, and I continued to massage my leg. I just hoped Ghorzag would at least finish me off quickly.

"You see those vultures, grey-skin? I'll bet they've never tasted Dark Elf before. I intend to give them a meal they'll never forget, and I will stand here smiling as they feast on your bones and wash it down with your blood," Ghorzag said with a sickening sneer as he waved the small dagger in his hand.

I lay there on the ground like a wounded dog; blood still gushing from my leg. A painful chill went down my spine as Ghorzag's words passed my ears.

"Look at you," he laughed, "It's a wonder you damn grey-skins aren't extinct yet, considering how puny and weak you all are. You're a nobody, and you're gonna die like a nobody. You **and **your whore of a mother!" Ghorzag shouted.

My stomach twisted at that, and an uncontrollable rage began to fester inside me.

"What the fuck did you just say?" I asked angrily; my rage growing with every passing second.

"Aw, is grey-skin gonna cry cause I insulted his mommy?" Ghorzag began to taunt, "The Count tells my father everything he does to your whore mother. The way he fucks her like a piece of meat, the way she cries and pleads for him to stop as she's forced to suck him off, the way he smacks her around like the wench that she is. I hear that them Dark Elf women just love to take it up the rear! Maybe someday I'll get to find out for myself."

That was the last straw.

I clenched another stone in my fist, and I sprang to my feet. I screamed at the top of my lungs as I charged at Ghorzag; the fire of a thousand suns burning within me. I forced the Orc to the ground, and I began relentlessly bashing the stone into his face.

The Orc cried helplessly as I continued to strike him with the stone. Blood began spewing from him as I completely busted his nose right off of his vile face. The stone crumbled to dust in my hands, and in all my fury, I actually managed to completely lift Ghorzag off the ground. I laid him face down against a sharp, jutting rock. I positioned him so the rock was over his mouth, and as I kicked the back of Ghorzag's head, I smiled as I heard the sickening sound of his jaw snapping open.

As Ghorzag's screams of agony grew louder, I picked up his dagger off the ground and sat down on top of him.

"S..S..St..Stop! I'm s..s..s…sorry," Ghorzag begged me, as he knew he was now completely at my mercy.

I ignored his pathetic pleading.

"After all the years of hell you put me through, after all the countless beatings you gave me, you expect me to just forget everything and show you mercy?! This is payback Ghorzag; this is for every bloody nose, every broken bone, and every insult you ever gave me. My revenge has come," I said coldly, and I then drove the dagger through Ghorzag's right eye.

Ghorzag screamed again as the blood was gushing, and I quickly cut out his other eye. I smiled sadistically as Ghorzag began clawing his now empty eye sockets.

I stood up and looked at the now completely disfigured face of the one who tormented me my whole life; his jawbone was actually sticking out from where I snapped it. I sneered as I saw the enormous pool of blood pouring out of Ghorzag's face. As he continued to writhe in pain, I heard him begin to speak again.

"You…will pay….for this….grey-skin. When the guards…find my body…you'll spend the rest of your days…..in the….dungeon," he said; blood rushing from his mouth with every word.

"There isn't going to **be **a body to find Ghorzag," I replied calmly.

I raised both my hands and began to charge my flame spell in them. After a few seconds of concentration, I unleashed the fury of my magic, and I began to incinerate the Orc alive.

Ghorzag let out an ear-piercing shriek as his flesh melted from his bones. I stood there, completely expressionless as Ghorzag's face and body started to burn beyond recognition.

I held my spell for another minute until Ghorzag, my lifelong bully, was nothing but a pile of ash.

* * *

I immediately collapsed to the ground in exhaustion; desperately gasping for air. I cut off a piece of my shirt and tied it over my leg where Ghorzag stabbed me. I turned my head and looked at the remains of the deceased Orc, and I sighed in relief. He would never bother me again; I was now free of him.

_What the hell am I gonna tell my mother?_

As I continued to lay in the blood-stained grass, the sun became obscured by black rain clouds. I felt drops of rain upon my skin, and thunder began to erupt violently in the sky. It was as if Kynareth herself had witnessed my unspeakable act, and the drastic change in weather was her despair.

A fell and chilling wind began to blow through the forest, and I watched as it swept away Ghorzag's ashes. I laid on the ground completely motionless; the cold refreshing rain beating against my skin as I watched the blood begin to wash off. I finally caught my breath and the reality of what I had just done began to sink in.

After collecting my thoughts I finally stood up, picked up my bow and began to limp back home; trying frantically to concoct a story explaining where Ghorzag was and why I was drenched in blood.

As I slowly trudged my way home, I surprised myself at how emotionless I felt by killing Ghorzag. I certainly felt relief, but like I said, most of your emotions are shut right off and you go completely numb inside.

I finally made it home and my mother screamed in horror as I came through the door; she probably thought I just came from a torture chamber or something the way the blood was still dripping from my clothes.

My mother brought me to a healer, and he quickly fixed my leg with a Restoration spell and got all the blood cleaned off me. My mother held me as I lay in the bed. She was kissing me and stroking my hair, and I could feel her soothing heartbeat as I buried my head in her chest.

When the healer asked me what had happened, I told him that Ghorzag and I started fighting in the woods, and within a couple minutes a pack of bandits found and attacked us. I told him that they hurt both of us pretty badly, and they eventually made off with Ghorzag while I was able to escape.

My voice shook with fear as I lied to their very faces, but to my astonishment my mother and the healer completely bought the story. Within hours, a detachment of guards was dispatched to look for Ghorzag; completely unaware that he was dead by my hand.

After the healer let us go, my mother went home and I went and sat next to the statue that stood in the middle of town; the Lucky Old Lady folks called it. I didn't know why but I always got a peaceful feeling inside of me when I sat next to it; like all my troubles just started to slowly disappear. I had heard urban legends about the statue; that it really did bring good luck to people who came to it. I never believed it though and just thought of it as another fairy-tale.

It was just after dusk and the streets were mostly empty. It was still raining and thundering in the sky. As I let the rain pour against me, I swore I could hear a voice begin to speak to me.

"_You have done well, my child._"

I turned toward the statue and stared at it with bewilderment on my face. When I didn't hear anything else I just blamed it on my imagination and turned back around and looked into the sky,

"_Your actions have pleased the Dread Father._"

I knew then it was a voice I was hearing; it was an ever so slight whisper, but it was there. I looked up at the statue again.

"_Come to me, my child. Feel my embrace, feel my warmth. Come to me…Listener._"


	9. One Final Request

**A/N: Damn, this was a really difficult and emotional chapter to write, but I'm pleased with how it turned out and I hope you enjoy it. Thank you to everyone who has been reading so far, it means a lot to me.**

**Without further ado, here you go :)**

* * *

"By the gods ma, would you take it easy on the mead? That's your fourth drink this afternoon," I said to my mother as I looked at her.

My mother was sitting in her chair in the corner of our house; weakly grasping the half-empty bottle of mead in her left hand. Her expression bore no emotion whatsoever; her glazed eyes just stared endlessly into the abyss as she sat slumped in her chair. She brought the tip of the bottle to her mouth again and let out a slight belch as a few drops spilled onto her stained shirt. She was now barely holding the bottle and I could see the rest of the mead spilling onto the floor.

I looked out of our window, and it was just as dreary and miserable outside as it was in here. The skies were darkened by endless rain clouds; I could hear thunder crashing in the sky as the rain relentlessly beat against the roof and dripped down our windows. Periodically I would see bursts of lightning flash in the sky that would accompany the booming thunder. Their long zigzag shapes provided the only source of light in the sky at all. Cyrodiil was experiencing the worst storm it had had in years; we hadn't even seen the sun for two entire weeks. Day after day brought heavy torrents of rain, and the winds on some days would be strong enough to blow even a troll off its feet. I was actually beginning to wonder if I would ever see a blue sky again.

Depression filled my heart as I rested my head on the small pane of the window. Staring at the bleak weather brought me nothing but sorrow, but watching my mother slowly drink herself to death was even worse.

I turned around and saw my mother drop her now empty mead bottle on the floor. She let out a long sigh and tried to stand, but she was far too inebriated to do even that. She quickly lost her balance and fell right back in the wooden chair.

"You're gonna kill yourself if you keep this up ma. You saw what happened to Ghorzag's father. If you don't stop soon you're going to wind up just like him," I said helplessly to my ma.

"It'd be a hell of a lot better than this," my mother said in a clearly drunken tone of voice, barely able to even keep her head up.

"What else is there for me to do? I've been livin this same shitty life for seventeen years now and clearly nothing better is gonna come. So what if it kills me? Liquor is my only source of pleasure anymore. It's the only thing that lets me forget everything wrong and brings me peace," she said as she started to cry.

This wasn't the first time I pleaded with ma to quit her drinking, and this wasn't the first time she gave me that answer.

I let out a frustrated grunt and went upstairs. Watching my mother, the woman who raised me from birth and was there for me every day decline so rapidly was much too unbearable.

I grabbed a book off the shelf that stood at the end of the room and sat down on my bed; resting my head on the pillow. I opened the book and I could see the dirt that had accumulated inside the wrinkled pages fall to the floor. I turned to the first page and began to read; desperately trying to forget all my problems and escape to my fantasy world as I had loved to do my whole life.

I was seventeen years old, and three years had passed since Ghorzag's death. I can still remember the look on his parents' faces when the guards informed them that their son was nowhere to be found and they were giving up the search. His mother let out a shrill cry as she buried her head in her husband's arms, and it was in that moment that I fully realized that I robbed them of their only child.

Over the next few months after I killed Ghorzag, his father began to deteriorate quickly. He became an alcoholic, and it ended up costing him his job as Captain of the Guard. He spent the rest of his days either in a tavern or passed out drunk on the streets. He was never without a bottle in his hand, and I figure he thought alcohol was the only way to escape his sorrow, much like my mother right now.

Eventually his dead, urine-soaked body was found in a gutter. The guards who discovered him concluded that he had died of alcohol poisoning, and a large funeral was held in his honor. Only days later, the body of Ghorzag's mother was found hanging from the ceiling in their house. She had become completely grief-stricken and decided to end her own life.

An entire family was ripped apart and destroyed thanks to me. Good riddance to them I say. They were walking pieces of trash and a complete waste of air. They raised an absolute pathetic pile of shit for a son who mercilessly bullied me day after day, and they did nothing to stop it. They were completely corrupt and cared nothing for Bravil or the welfare of its citizens. All they cared about were the gold coins that jingled in their pockets from their high positions they did nothing to deserve.

To this day I don't regret killing Ghorzag. He got exactly what he deserved, and it still pleasures me to know that I was the one who ended his miserable excuse for an existence. He, along with all Orcs are a blight upon this world that need to be purged. Ghorzag and his parents showed me that Orcs are nothing but brute and mindless savages who will hurt and kill anybody for absolutely no reason at all. I hate them with every fibre of my being; if an Orc so much as looks at me in a way I don't like, they'll find my sword through their gullet or my fangs in their neck. They are less than human, and are certainly less than Dunmer, and I will be more than happy to put every single one of them in the ground where they belong if it comes to that.

It was a couple months after my sixteenth birthday that my mother began to decline. She was a strong person my whole life and I saw her endure things that no person should ever have to go through. No matter what happened to her, my mother would always fight her way through it and come out stronger, and she did it all for me. In her heart, my mother knew that all the abuse and hell she went through in her line of work was always worth it, because it meant that I would have a safe home to live in and food to eat. I seriously admired my mother for doing absolutely anything it took to provide for us, and in my eyes, she was, and still is, my greatest hero.

Over the past year however all the trauma she had suffered, from the abuse by my father, to years of being forced to sell herself on the streets just to pay for our meals had finally taken its toll on my mother. She had grown very distant and emotionally withdrawn. The nurturing woman that was once full of love and tenderness was now replaced by someone cold and depressed. She began to indulge heavily in alcohol, and very soon it turned into an addiction. Drinking had become her only pastime; cooking and reading provided no pleasure for her anymore.

It broke my heart to see my mother's life spiral downwards like this. She had always taught me to face my problems head on, to never run away from them or try to drown them out with something else, but that's exactly what she was doing now. And it was torture for me, knowing there was little I could do to help her. I ended up becoming the one having to take care of her. Some nights I would come home to find her passed out on the floor, and I usually would have to carry her up to her bed. My mother had officially given up on life, as well as herself.

I lay on my bed reading the book in my hands. I set it down only after a few pages; the stress inside me was overwhelming, and I found it impossible to become immersed within the story.

I heard the sound of snoring coming from downstairs, and I realized that my mother had fallen into yet another of her drunken slumbers. I looked at the window across from my bed and could see the rain still falling. The drops pouring from the sky were like the tears that were rolling down my cheeks; the grey bleakness of the sky was the sorrow that lingered in my heart.

After lying on my bed for gods know how long, I decided I would face the weather and go over to Sengar's house; even just being close to my mother was depressing me. I put on my coat and lifted the hood over my head as I headed for the door.

* * *

A flash of lightning struck nearby as I stepped outside into the mud, it actually made me jump off my feet for a split second. I ran quickly through the wet streets of Bravil; dodging puddles and doing my best to keep dry. Nobody except a few guards on patrol were outside. I couldn't help but feel slightly bad for them; I certainly would not have wanted to be on guard duty in that miserable weather.

I finally made it to Sengar's house and I kicked the water off my boots as he let me inside. I took off my jacket and hung it on the wall to let it dry. I then sat down in a chair and Sengar made some tea for the both of us.

At this point I had moved on from Destruction magic to Illusion. I had read many tomes from Sengar's library about powerful wizards who could manipulate the minds of their foes; completely take control of them and bend them to their will. Other wizards could muffle their footsteps, making them completely inaudible and allowing them to take their enemies by total surprise. What fascinated me the most however, were the masters of the Illusion school who could control the shadows and literally turn invisible.

It was then I realized that Destruction spells can only get you so far. Sure there are many powerful spells that are more than worth learning, but should you encounter a mage more skilled and powerful than you are, offensive spells are not going to save you.

Illusion on the other hand, the possibilities are endless. To be able to coerce an enemy to fight by your side, or perhaps turn an entire platoon of soldiers against one another, or even sneak through a fort of bandits completely unseen as you eliminate them one by one, that is true power. As a thief and vampire who values discretion and subtlety above all else, the Illusion school remains my personal favorite of the schools, and I imagine not even the mages at the College of Winterhold can match my knowledge.

Sengar told me that Illusion was the least understood of the schools of magic, and perhaps even the most difficult to learn. I certainly believed him; this was nothing like learning a flame spell. He was teaching me a Muffle spell that day, and I just could not wrap my head around it. It wasn't helping that I was barely listening to Sengar's instructions; my mind was much too occupied with other things, mostly my mother. No matter how much I tried, I could not stop worrying about her worsening state.

"Something wrong my dear boy? You've hardly been paying attention to a word I've been saying. What's troubling you?" Sengar asked me with great concern.

"I'm sorry Sen, I've been ungrateful of your teachings and I apologize. It's just…..mother. She's getting worse by the day and I can't get her out of my mind," I confided to Sengar.

"No need to apologize Sargoth. Your mother is in a dark place right now, and having to watch her suffer must be poison in your veins," Sengar said understandingly, "Perhaps it would be best to continue our lesson another day."

"Thanks Sengar. You know, for understanding."

"Everyone goes through rough patches in their lives, even those we love. The most important thing we can do for them during those times is be there for them. Listen to their problems, be their shoulder to cry on, hold the torch for them and show them the light when they are in darkness. The best thing you can do for your mother right now is simply be there for her, no matter how much it might frustrate you. Be supportive and do whatever you can to help, let her know that you love her and you care," Sengar encouraged, and a sliver of hope began to shine inside of me. He always had a way of lifting my spirits when I was troubled.

I left Sengar's place and sat next to the statue of the Lucky Old Lady. Ever since that day three years ago when I killed Ghorzag, when it spoke to me, I found myself growing more curious about it. I had no idea what it meant, and I was hoping that perhaps it would speak again. In those three years however I never heard its soft, chilling whisper again.

_Why did it call me "her child"? Who is the Dread Father? Why did it call me "Listener?" Did it somehow know that I killed Ghorzag?_

I would sit and ponder those questions many times; growing increasingly frustrated by the lack of answers to feed my curiosity.

I had heard stories of the Dark Brotherhood, the most legendary and feared guild of assassins in Tamriel. I knew they worshipped a spirit called the Night Mother, but my knowledge of them at that point did not extend far beyond that. I read that a traitor had infiltrated the Brotherhood and risen through the ranks, and then systematically he murdered the entire ruling body of the guild, the Black Hand.

I didn't think the statue could be referring to that. The Dark Brotherhood was all but extinct in Cyrodiil, or so everyone thought; not a single assassination had been carried out by them in years.

I had no idea how important those words the statue said to me would be to my life almost two centuries later.

* * *

A week had passed, and the sun had finally made its way past the dark clouds and was shining in the clear blue sky. I woke up to the sound of the citizens going about their daily business, and the birds were singing cheerfully once again. I felt a bit of joy to finally be looking at something other than rain outside. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa in front of our small fireplace.

"Mornin ma," I said as I saw her sitting across the room.

"Morning son," she said solemnly. There was not a hint of joy in her voice; I was concerned if mother would ever return to her former self.

After a few minutes I fixed myself something for breakfast, and I decided I would go outside and enjoy the beautiful weather that was long overdue. As I took the last bites of my meal, I put my dishes away and looked out the window again. I slipped on my jacket and boots and as I made my way to the door, I felt mother's hand grasp mine.

"Sargoth, wait," she said softly.

"What is it ma?" I asked with slight concern in my voice.

"I love you," she said, a tear was forming in her eye, "I'm sorry for putting you through this. I'm sorry I was never able to give you the life you deserve. I'm sorry for….for…..everything," ma started weeping heavily, and I put both my arms around her and tried to console her as best I could.

"I love you too ma. I appreciate everything you've done for me, and I promise you're going to come through this. You are the strongest person I know ma, and I'll always love you no matter what happens," I said trying to sound assuring, but I seriously doubted if ma would come through her depression.

She gave a faint smile; the first I had seen in months, and she kissed me on the mouth. I looked into her gloomy, purple eyes for a few more moments before I left and made my way to the door.

I left the house and stepped outdoors. Autumn was making its way through Cyrodiil, and the chill of the wind sent a shiver down my spine. The leaves were tumbling from their high branches to the ground; their colors were vibrant shades of red and orange like burning flames. I watched as the wind swept the fallen leaves off the ground and began dancing in circles in the frigid air.

I made my way to the main gate and stepped outside of the city; I decided that I would go for a peaceful stroll in the forest.

* * *

As I stood in the open wilderness, the harsh breath of the wind grew more chilling. I could hear the loud crunch of the withered leaves as my feet made contact with the ground. I watched around me as the land was preparing for the coming months of another winter. In a few months, the ground would be draped in a white blanket of snow, and the woods would be almost completely devoid of any wildlife. Despite the cold, I always enjoyed the winter time. Waking up in the morning and looking upon falling snowflakes always brought me joy, and I loved going outside and just basking in the peace and silence that winter brought. At night I would lie on the highest snow bank and gaze endlessly at the beautiful red sky as the sun gave way to the moons.

As I entered the forest, the trees were shaking in the wind, and I found myself brushing off the leaves as they fell onto my hair and clothes. As I looked upward I could see slight amounts of frost forming on the tall surrounding trees, and they shimmered a radiant sparkle as the sun reflected its glowing light onto them.

My walk was mostly uneventful. I saw a few deer among the bushes as they searched for mates to face the winter together with.

Minutes soon turned to hours, and I had completely lost track of time as I found myself completely mesmerized by the beauty of Kynareth's creations. Dusk soon crept upon the lands, and I looked into the sky and admired the sunset as darkness made its way into the sky.

After a few moments, I decided I had been out long enough; I probably should go home before it gets too late and ma starts worrying about me. I trekked my way back out of the woods and into the city. The air grew colder as night drew closer, and I couldn't wait to warm my bones in the warm embrace of a cozy fire.

I opened the door and hung up my jacket on the wall.

"Ma, I'm home!" I called out. There was no answer. A bitter cold blew through the house, and I couldn't help but sense something was wrong.

"Ma? Ma, I'm back," I called out again, curious as to why she wasn't responding. I made my way upstairs.

"You up here ma? I'm ho-"

What I saw next still haunts my dreams to this day.

* * *

Next to her bed, I saw my mother's body lying sprawled on the floor. My heart froze as I saw the pool of blood that was seeping out of her. The floor was drenched in my mother's blood, and even the blankets on her bed had globs of red on them.

"By the gods! No! Ma! MA!" I screamed in horror as I ran and knelt down next to her body.

She was clenching an iron dagger in her right hand; her throat and wrists were slit open. The dress she was wearing was soaked in her blood, and her eyes were closed, never to open again.

"Wake up ma! Please! Wake up, don't leave me here alone! MA, PLEASE! WAKE UP!" I cried hysterically as I cradled her lifeless body in my arms. I knew my pleading was futile. My mother was gone; dead by her own hand, and I would never see her again. I knew ma was depressed for a long time, but never did I suspect she would take her own life.

I cried harder than I ever had before. I continued begging mother to wake up as I looked into her closed and dead eyes. Looking up, I noticed a wrinkled sheet of paper lying on a desk beside ma's bed. I stood up and reached for it. My hands began to tremble as I read the words; my tears dripping onto the page.

_My beloved son Sargoth,_

_By the time you read this, I will no longer be of this world. Life has become much too unbearable for me to continue, and death is the only way I will find the peace I have longed for all these years. The abuse I have suffered through my life has become too much, and it has robbed me of any happiness I once had. I want you to know that this is no fault of your own; you are an amazing child with a bright future ahead of you, and raising you was the greatest joy I could ever have hoped to experience._

_At this point however, I feel I have done all I can for you. It is unfair of me to place my burdens and my troubles onto your shoulders. I don't want to see you held back because of me, so I think this is what's best for both of us._

_My life may be over, but yours has just begun. It is your turn to make your mark upon this world. It is time to spread your wings and fly; chase whatever dreams your heart desires. Never give up in achieving your goals, and always protect those you care about._

_I have one final request to ask of you, my son. Take my wedding ring from my finger, wear it everywhere you go. When you find that special someone; that someone you know you'll want to spend the rest of your life with, give it to them and let that be a symbol of your undying love. Give her the love I never had, the unconditional affection your father never gave me. Make her the happiest woman alive, and always protect her with your life._

_I apologize from the bottom of my heart for the pain I know this will cause you. While I may no longer be here physically, know that I will always be with you. Just look to the stars and call for me, and I will answer._

_I love you more than you could possibly imagine. Whatever you decide to do in life, I wish you the best of luck and the blessings of the divines. Goodbye Sargoth, my beautiful son. I will miss you immensely._

_With all my love, your mother,_

_Norvela Drelas_

My heart stopped as I read the last words. A plethora of emotions began to course within me: sadness, guilt, anger, regret, denial, uncertainty, fear. How could ma do this to me? How could she leave her only son alone against the harsh, cruel world? Why couldn't I save her? Why couldn't I have tried harder to help her? Why was this happening to me?

In a fit of rage, I punched a hole right through the soft wooden wall. This didn't even seem real. I just couldn't accept that my mother, the woman who was with me every day since I cried for the first time when I was born, was actually gone.

A priest of Arkay came to our house, and I sadly trudged behind him as he carried my mother's corpse to the chapel undercroft to prepare her for burial.

Mother's funeral service was held the next day, with most of the townsfolk showing up to pay their final respects. I looked upon my mother's face one last time as she lay motionless in the casket before it was lowered into the cold ground forever. After the funeral was done, I stood in front of her grave. Sengar was behind me; his hands rested upon my shoulders. I cried as I knelt down to the grave and lay a single rose on top of it.

"Goodbye Ma," I whispered.

_Here lies Norvela Drelas, beloved mother and dear friend._

_May her soul find peace in Aetherius. _

_Born: 27 Sun's Dusk, 3E 347_

_Died: 13 Frostfall, 4E 23_


	10. Scars of the Past

**A/N: So this chapter ended up being longer than I thought, but there is quite a bit of back-story that's revealed. I added Sargoth's childhood memory to try and bring some joy back into the story, especially seeing how the last chapter ended, so I hope you enjoy it.**

**Thank you to MightyMerlin, Inferno VI-VI-VI & shifty53 for your kind feedback :)**

* * *

"I thought I'd make you a bite to eat," I heard Sengar say softly as I turned around toward him.

"I'm not hungry," was all I said back.

"You've been saying that every day for the past month Sargoth. You hardly eat anything anymore. You don't sleep, and when was the last time you went outside?" he asked me, obviously concerned.

I said nothing. My eyes drifted toward the floor as I continued to wallow in my grief.

"Very well, I'll keep it cold in case you change your mind," the old Breton said solemnly.

"It's my fault Sengar," I began.

"What do you mean dear boy?"

"It's my fault she's gone Sen!" I was struggling to speak as I stifled my sobs, "I should have tried harder to save her. I should have known how bad her depression was. I should have been there to stop her!" my voice grew with rage and I was weeping uncontrollably.

"Oh no no no, my boy. You did nothing wrong, you hear me? I don't ever want you to think this was in any way your fault," Sengar began to say as he came up to me and hugged me.

"Your mother loved you to the fullest extent a mother could possibly love her child. She had a very hard life, full of heartbreak and misfortune. But you, my boy, you were the one thing that made all her hardships worth it. You were the one thing that brought her joy. You were the sunlight that shone away her darkness, the fire that gave her warmth against the cold, the rose that grew in a field of weeds. Your mother was always proud of you, and you were the best son she could have asked for," Sengar said, desperately trying to ease my guilt.

"Then why did she kill herself?! Why isn't she still here? Tell me! How could she just leave me all alone like this?!" I shouted, unable to contain the emotions that dwelled inside me.

Sengar sighed, unsure of how to answer.

"I don't know, Sargoth. I truly do not know," he began, "No one can ever be sure what is truly lingering within another person's mind, or their heart. We can't always predict what other people will do. On the outside, some people can appear completely normal and happy and carefree, but on the inside can be a different story altogether. We can't ever truly know what is going on inside another person, no matter how much we think we know them. Perhaps it is not our business to know. In the case of your mother, perhaps her death is part of a plan of the Gods. Perhaps your tragedy may one day lead to something greater in your life."

"To Oblivion with the Gods! How can my mother slitting her own fucking throat open lead to something greater?!" I retorted angrily.

"Don't say such things my boy! The Gods watch over us all. They know what will happen to each of us. Everything they do is part of their grand plan," the old man said, trying to calm me down.

"No, I mean it Sengar. The Gods can burn in the fires of Oblivion itself. My mother prayed to them, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year! She prayed every day for a better life for the both of us, and what did they do? Nothing! They let her continue suffering in her misery, they watched as she slowly deteriorated each day. They let her take her own life. If the Gods do care, why didn't they help ma? If this is part of some plan of theirs, I want no part in it. I hate the Gods, and I will curse their names as long as I breathe. I will choose my own path; I will live my life by _my_ own plan!" I ran out of breath from my ranting.

Sengar didn't know how to reply. He knew nothing he said would calm me down.

"If that is your opinion, you are entitled to it. I will not try to change your mind; you are of the age where you must decide your own beliefs. But one day, you're going to have to learn to overcome your anger; your grief. If you continue to be haunted by the past, it will destroy your life. Hatred will begin to fester within you, and it will consume you and transform you into something terrible; something evil. Over time, that hatred will become the core of your being, and you won't even know who you are anymore. I know that's not what your mother would want for you," Sengar calmly explained to me.

I stood silently for a few more moments as my emotions continued to course through my soul. I worried helplessly about what was going to happen next; uncertain of what lay ahead in my future. I stared outside Sengar's window, and I watched as the clouds shrouded the light of the sun, much like how the sorrow within me had shrouded any happiness.

A month had passed since my mother's suicide. Sengar took me in and had let me stay with him. He tried his hardest to comfort me and care for me, but I was still an emotional wreck. My pain and grief hadn't even begun to heal. Every morning I woke up, hoping to find my mother standing over me, shaking me awake as she often did. I missed the way she kissed me every morning, I missed waking up to the smell of her delicious cooking, I missed watching her read as she sat in her favorite chair in the living room. I missed the warm, soothing hugs we exchanged every morning before starting our day. I missed the long, thoughtful discussions we would often have about life, the world, and the future. I missed just being able to go to her with any problem, and she would always know just what to say to me to brighten my spirits.

I was lost without ma. My heart had been ripped from my very chest and stomped on the ground. My life was a crystal ball that had been shattered into a million tiny shards. I was a ship without a sail, doomed to forever wander a sea of sorrow. I was an eagle whose wings had been cut off, no longer able to fly. I was a tree, standing alone in a vast desert, slowly withering from the harshness of the dry sand. I don't think mother was the only one who died that day; I think a part of me went with her. Each day was an agonizing struggle that felt as long as an entire era. I felt like I was lost in a dark tunnel with no hope of ever finding light at the end of it.

After a moment, I finally decided to go outside to get some fresh air, and I solemnly walked to my mother's grave and sat in front of it; staring endlessly at the epitaph etched within.

Ma's grave was the only place I went since she died. I would spend hours sitting in front of the stone; constantly cycling through my mind all the memories we had shared. Some days I even fell asleep there. I knew I was torturing myself by doing this, but I didn't care. While it was agonizing, at the same time it also brought a tiny measure of peace.

As I continued to weep in front of her grave, one particular memory began to stand out in my mind. It was the first time mother ever took me anywhere outside of Bravil. It remains one of my earliest and fondest memories of her.

* * *

I was four years old. It was the ninth day of Rain's Hand; winter had passed, the snow had melted, and the flowers were blooming once again. The white crystals of snow were replaced by the long, green blades of grass. It was a beautiful morning; certainly perfect for the wonderful vacation my mother had planned that day.

"Time to wake up little guy," she said as she lifted me from my bed and held me against her. "I have a surprise for you!"

"What is it mama? What is it?"

"We're going somewhere special!" was all she said.

I could barely contain my excitement. I remember running joyfully around our house as she set me down. After gathering everything we needed, ma brought us to the stables where a carriage she had hired was waiting for us. We got in the back of the carriage, and ma sat me down in her lap.

"Where we going mama? Where we going?" I began bugging my mother as the carriage started off.

"Oh all right, I'll tell you," she giggled, "We're going to a city called Anvil. It's waaaay far west from here. It's a much different place than Bravil, and much nicer." She said excitedly.

"How long will it take to get there?" I asked.

"I'm not exactly sure son. I'd say anywhere from six to eight hours," ma answered.

I managed to keep myself entertained by watching the gorgeous scenery as the carriage passed it by. I would point to every animal we saw; everything was fascinating to my young, curious mind.

"Look ma, a deer!" I would say as pure joy swept my heart.

"There are lots of those this time of year! He's probably looking for food; I imagine he has a family to feed too," ma explained to me.

I looked up toward the sky and I could see a lone eagle sitting atop a giant tree in the distance. It remained still for several moments, periodically turning its head as it scanned the wilderness for prey. Then, to my astonishment, the eagle lifted its wings and let out a mighty cry as it soared through the air. It descended toward the river, and within seconds of submerging itself under the water, it resurfaced, clutching a fish with its golden, curved beak.

"Did you see that mama? Did you?" I asked in total amazement; never before had I seen anything so fascinating.

"I sure did!" she replied excitedly as the monstrous bird flew above us with its helpless prey.

I ended up falling asleep about halfway through the trip, which cut off about three or four hours. After what seemed like an age, and after seeing so many wondrous sights, the carriage finally arrived at the gates of Anvil. We left very early in the morning, so it was still mid-afternoon by the time we got there.

I stared in wonder at the massive gate to the city that stood before us; large banners draped over the mountainous wall of stone that surrounded the city. My excitement grew as we neared the city.

"Greetings, Dunmer!" a lone gate guard said kindly, "What brings you to Anvil?"

"We're just here visiting for the day. I wanted to show my little boy around the city; a vacation I guess you could say," my mother answered the guard, she was holding my hand.

"Ah, splendid!" the guard said cheerfully as he looked down at me, "And what's_ your_ name little fella?" he asked.

I cowered and hid behind ma; clutching her dress.

"Oh don't mind him, he's just a little shy," ma chuckled, "His name is Sargoth. I'm Norvela."

"Well, I'd like to welcome both of you to Anvil. Before you go, I've got something for you Sargoth!" the guard said, and to my delight I saw him pull out a sweetroll. My face beamed with joy as he walked over and handed it to me.

"Thank you!" I said as I quickly consumed the delicious treat; giving a piece to ma.

The guard smiled and he opened the gate, and my mother and I stepped inside the city.

As we took our first steps in the city, I was completely in awe as I scanned my surroundings in all directions; this place was nothing like Bravil. The streets were paved with grey cobblestone; the buildings possessed an elegant architecture that had strong Redguard influences. Where the houses in Bravil were mostly wooden, worn down shacks that were stacked atop one another, the houses in Anvil were all built with stones. Magnificent manors lined the streets; some were as high as three or four storeys.

Many trees were lined all throughout the city, where the citizens would sit underneath the cool shade and discuss the happenings of the day. The Chapel of Dibella stood at the other end of town, with its towering steeple that reached the heavens. I had heard stories of its desecration by the forces of Umaril the Unfeathered; all of the clergy were slaughtered in the attack. A holy warrior known as the Divine Crusader resurrected the band of knights known as the Knights of the Nine, and together they stormed Umaril's stronghold and vanquished him for all eternity. There were legends that the Crusader actually crossed into the spirit plane itself, and there, he destroyed Umaril's very soul. Such a feat was unheard of before, and to a small child such as me, it was a story more epic than I could have possibly imagined.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" my mother uttered.

I simply nodded my head in agreement. I didn't want to leave this magnificent city; Bravil didn't even begin to match the beauty of Anvil. After admiring the exquisite scenery a moment longer, my mother and I went to an inn called The Count's Arms.

After making our way inside and seating ourselves at a table, I began looking all around the luxurious inn. There were other people sitting all around us; talking and telling jokes as they drank their expensive wine. Travelers were coming and going, with the owner giving kind greetings to everyone who came and renting out rooms to anyone who needed them. A bard stood to the side of the room, singing his merry tunes. There were one or two people sitting in a corner that had no drinks, but were simply reading books and had come inside to escape the hustle and bustle of the city. The building was heated by a fireplace that stood across the dining area. After eating a delicious lunch and relaxing for a while, my mother and I left the inn, and she then brought me down to the docks outside the city.

Anvil was a major trading port for all of Cyrodiil, and its docks were always filled with ships coming from all the provinces of Tamriel. I stood in amazement as I gazed at the hulking ships; their masts were like towering spires that reached the clouds themselves. There were a few shops and inns lining the docks, and sailors and traders were gathered all over the place, bartering goods and telling tales of their adventures.

What astounded me the most was the racial diversity that was present. There were folks from all over the continent of all different races, bantering with each other and sharing a laugh: Nords, Imperials, Argonians, Dunmer, Altmer, Khajiit. Cyrodiil was always more friendly to outsiders than Skyrim, and that is one of the things I miss the most about it. Tamriel has always had its fair share of racial discrimination, but here, everyone was equal. Everyone was enjoying each other's company, no matter where they were from, no matter their background. I remember the Anvil Port having a feeling of joy and harmony as I watched all the different folks converse amongst one another.

I ran ahead to the edge of the docks to get a closer look at the monstrous vessels as the waves crashed against the wooden planks. I could see more ships coming on the distant horizon; each one was bigger than the next.

"Quite amazing ain't they?" I heard someone ask. I looked to my left and standing next to me was a big, burly Nord. He wore a bandanna across his head, and he was wearing an old sailors' tunic that looked like it had seen better days.

"Uh-huh" was all I managed to respond.

"Is this your ship?" my mother asked as she stood behind me, pointing to the one closest to us.

"Certainly is, my lass. I've been sailin' her for more than three decades now I have. I inherited her from my pa after he passed when I was barely an adult. Got me own crew as well. Damn louts are probably off drunk in some tavern I reckon," the Nord sailor chuckled.

"Are you a pirate?" I asked curiously.

He let out a jolly laugh "Oh goodness no me lad! I was somethin' of a scallywag back when I was just a young'un, but those days are long past me. Nowadays I just run trade routes for the Empire, and they pay me well enough. Hopefully I can retire in a couple more years," the sailor said.

"Can I get on your ship?" I eagerly asked him.

"I don't see why not my boy, as long as yer mother's okay with it," he answered.

Ma smiled and nodded her head, and she held my hand as the Nord led us across the docks and onto his ship.

I immediately ran to the stern and stared down into the crystal clear water that was slightly rocking the large boat. I could see schools of fish swimming freely in swirling circles as the waves continued to rise and crash against the shore. I then ran to the large, circular steering wheel that stood in the center of the upper deck and began pretending to drive the ship.

"Look ma, I'm a pirate!" I yelled as I made steering motions with my hands.

Ma laughed, "Where we off to, Captain?" she asked, playing along.

"Everywhere! We're gonna sail all across Tamriel and beyond!" I responded eagerly, completely lost in my childlike innocence.

A few minutes passed, and my mother decided it was time for us to move on.

"We oughta get going little fella," she said, "I'm sure this man is very busy, and we still have more sights to see! How about I show you the lighthouse next?" she asked.

I nodded, and the Nord saw us off the ship.

"Thank you for your time, mister. I think you've made my little boy's day," my mother said to the sailor.

"No problem lass. It was a pleasure meetin' ya's. You take care of yerselves now!" the Nord waved at us as we left.

My mother and I then made our way to the lighthouse which was just a short distance away from the docks. Dusk was soon approaching, and as we finished the climb up the stairs and reached the top, the sky was shining a bright crimson as the sun departed and the twin moons began to rise. The fire of the lighthouse was lit, and the flaming embers illuminated the air as I felt its warmth caress my body.

Ma lifted me up onto her shoulders, and I gazed in wonder at the vast sea as the tides began to calm. I could see the endless green pastures that lay beyond the city, the dense forests that covered most of the terrain with trees that stood like giants. Seagulls were singing in the distance as they landed on the shore searching for their meal. As I sat atop my mother's shoulders, I felt like an eagle, soaring high and free across the infinite skies without a care or worry in the world. I felt like a mighty God, sitting among the clouds in the heavens upon a throne of gold as I watched the myriad creatures stirring in the lands below. In those brief moments, I felt like I could be anything I wanted; nothing could hold me back. I felt like the whole world was mine for the taking. Quite often in our lives, there are moments that are so perfect, so serene and beautiful, that we never want them to end. For me, that was one of those moments. That still remains one of the fondest memories I have, and trust me; I don't have many of those. My vivid imagination was simply overwhelmed by the wonders I had witnessed that day, and I knew that would be a day I would not soon forget.

Soon after, my mother set me down, and we descended the lighthouse and made our way back to The Count's Arms. Nightfall had fully arrived, and the sky was fully dark by the time we made it back to the inn. We went into the luxurious suite that ma had rented for the night, and after she lit a fire, we both lay in the large bed, smiling and laughing as we fondly discussed that wonderful day.

My mother and I awoke the next morning and boarded the carriage to take us back to Bravil. I didn't want to go back to that shithole of a city; I wanted to stay in Anvil forever. Ma did too, but she said a house there would be much too expensive and we simply weren't able to afford it. I silently admired the scenery as the carriage drove us back to Bravil; back to reality.

* * *

I wept as I sat in front of ma's grave; replaying my countless memories with her through my mind. I stared at her wedding ring which now adorned my finger, and my stomach churned when I came to the realization that my mother ended her life on the same day she married my father.

My father. The man who vowed to love her forever. The man who vowed to care for her in sickness or health, wealthy or poor. The man who swore to protect her and provide for her all his days. The man who turned out to be a raging, abusive coward who scarred his wife physically and emotionally in order to feed his sick addiction. The man who abandoned his family when they needed him, and who hurt his wife so deeply that it ended up driving her to suicide. I swore that day that if I ever found that monster, that I would make him pay for what he did. I hope he's dead. I hope he's rotting deep beneath the ground with maggots feasting on his worthless bones. But if he isn't, and I ever do come across him, I'll make him sorry he ever laid a hand on my mother. I will make him suffer, just as he did her.

Darkness swept the sky, and I felt that I did enough wallowing for yet another day. I left the graveyard and made my way back to Sengar's house. I felt bad for being so harsh with him earlier; he was only trying to help, and I appreciated that.

The Breton was sitting in a chair, reading one of his many books when I got back. I sat down in the sofa across from him, and he put his book down as I got settled.

"How you feeling my boy?" he asked softly.

"Awful, still. Like my whole life is falling apart before my eyes," I responded.

"I know Sargoth, I know. When someone you love dies, it feels like you die as well. It's like everything around you simply stops, and any happiness you ever had is replaced by pain and grief. They become all you can think about, and everything you see reminds you of them, which only pains you further," the old man said with a sigh.

"You've felt this before?" I asked.

"I have. That woman in the painting upstairs in my library," Sengar began to explain, "She was my wife."

My eyes lit up in curiosity. I always was wondering who that was in the painting.

"I didn't know you were ever married, Sengar. You've never mentioned a wife the entire time I've known you," I said.

"I've never spoken of her to anyone, my boy, for it still grieves me to do so. Considering what you've been through however, I think you've earned the right to know," Sengar said with a deep breath.

I leaned forward and gave him my full attention.

* * *

"Her name was Natalia. She was an Imperial girl. I had first met her during my first year at the Arcane University when I was merely an apprentice at the Mages Guild. I was just twenty-one, and she nineteen. I was absolutely smitten with her the second I first laid my eyes on her," Sengar said with a slight chuckle "Her hair was black as a raven, and it flowed down her beautiful, curvaceous figure. She had the cutest laugh, and she was the kindest soul you'd ever meet. She would never hesitate to help a complete stranger she had just met. She loved life, and she loved the world," Sengar paused for a moment to clear his throat.

"My teacher introduced us during one of his lectures. I'm certain he noticed me staring at her the entire time instead of listening to him, and he paired us together for a research project he assigned all his students. We became fast friends, she and I, and we sorta had a friendly rivalry established between us. We would show off new spells we had learned to one another, and we would see who could cast the most powerful spells. We always tried to outdo each other, we did, and I think she was slightly jealous of my being a Breton, as magic came more naturally to me. But we always remained close, and we never left each other's side," Sengar took a sip of his tea.

"Quite soon she and I became inseparable. We went on every expedition together, we shared absolutely everything we learned with each other, and we were even teaching each other spells. She focused on Restoration magic; she had always to be a healer, she wanted to help the sick and the wounded. As we spent more and more time together, our feelings for each other grew, and our friendship eventually became love. We would sneak away every night and make love until the sun rose the next morning," Sengar said with a smile.

"We both knew we were born to be together, and eventually I asked her to be my wife. We still studied together over the years, with both of us becoming master wizards and two of the most esteemed students at the university. It was then that the Arch-Mage passed away from natural causes, and I was asked to take his place," the Breton said.

"Was Natalia the reason you turned it down?" I asked.

"That she was, my boy. We had talked for a while about leaving the Arcane University. We wanted to pursue our own studies and experience the outside world. I had no interest in leading the Guild; my wife was all I needed, and we left soon after. Our time with the Mages Guild taught us a great many things about magic, but I've always believed that experience is the best teacher, and Natalia and I wanted to embrace the world for ourselves. There was a whole world of knowledge out there just waiting for us, and we wanted every bit of it," the old man said, still smiling.

I smiled for the first time since ma passed, but I braced myself for the tragic turn I knew this story was going to take.

"What happened to Natalia?"

"We ended up settling down a few years into our marriage. We bought a house in Cheydinhal, and she became a healer at the chapel. We would still go out and explore the land, always increasing our knowledge, but not as often as we used to," Sengar's voice trailed off, and the smile disappeared from his face.

"Natalia and I went out, on our forty-fifth anniversary. We were peacefully strolling through the forest, recalling treasured memories and just basking in each other's company. We sat atop a large hillside; staring into the stars that glowed in the night sky. We held each other, and we both felt as young and carefree as we did when we first met. After a moment, I heard rustling among the trees, and almost out of nowhere, a group of about three or four men appeared and attacked us," Sengar paused briefly before continuing.

"At first I thought they were just common bandits, but it wasn't until I got a closer look at them that I saw their blood red eyes and their fangs, and I realized they were worse than bandits. They were vampires."

"And the vampires killed Natalia?" I asked.

"If only she could've been so lucky. We managed to kill them all, and we were mostly unscathed. Natalia received a slight cut from one of their daggers, but we thought nothing of it. We went home and just tried to put the attack behind us," Sengar's voice began to falter, and I could tell he was struggling to continue the story.

"The next morning, Natalia woke up sick as a dog; her skin was pale as the snow, she developed an extremely high fever, she had almost no energy at all, and she couldn't eat anything without throwing it back up. Strangest of all, however, was her sudden hatred of sunlight. Natalia always loved the outdoors her whole life; she would often spend hours lying and bathing in the sun as its warm rays caressed her. But now, she couldn't stand the sun for longer than a few seconds. She would shield her eyes with her hand, and she would experience pain whenever going outside; like her skin was actually burning. I thought it was just a really bad illness she had gotten, and that she would just sleep it off in a few days. By Talos, I was a fool. How did I not see it sooner?" A tear formed in Sengar's eye and he brushed it off. I did not like where this was going.

"Three days passed after the attack, and I woke up alone in our bed. I went out to our living room where Natalia was standing with her back to me. I slowly approached her and turned her around, and my heart stopped at what I saw. Her face looked like she had aged a hundred years; her eyes were a crimson red and razor sharp fangs protruded from her mouth. The vampires who attacked us had infected her; she was one of them. My Natalia, my poor, sweet Natalia, was a vampire."

My heart sank in my chest; this was all so much to take in. I couldn't even imagine Sengar's pain.

"I looked at her in disbelief for what seemed like an eternity; both of us crying. But I realized that while she may have been a vampire, while she may have no longer been human or mortal, she was still my Natalia; she was still my wife, and I loved her all the same," Sengar paused again as he was holding back his tears.

"I searched desperately for a cure. I read tomes, I asked every wizard I could find, I used every combination of alchemical ingredients I could muster to try and discover a cure for my beloved wife. My efforts were fruitless, and Natalia's condition worsened by the day. As you know, vampires must feed on blood in order to stay healthy, which Natalia absolutely refused to do. She couldn't even think of drinking the blood of another living being. I offered to let her feed off me, and she wouldn't even do that. As the days passed, her vampirism consumed her more and more; slowly draining away her strength and her sanity. She became more feral every day, until eventually she was no better than a vicious animal. My heart shattered as I realized that she was going to hurt, or even kill somebody. I couldn't let her live in that wretched condition, I knew there was only one thing I could do," Sengar could hold back the tears no longer.

"I took her to our basement where there was a single window, and I tied her up. She clawed and growled at me as she struggled against the ropes. After looking at my wife one last time and saying goodbye to her, I thrust open the window where a beam of sunlight shone through. Natalia screamed in agony as the sun charred her entire body, and within seconds, my wife was nothing but ash and dust," Sengar finished his story, and pure dread was growing inside me.

"I'm so sorry Sengar. You must've loved her so much. To have to put down your own wife, after having been with her for forty-five years…I don't think I could do it," was all I managed to say.

"That painting is the only thing I have left of my dear Natalia. Looking into it is peaceful, and torturous at the same time. Death is never an easy thing to deal with, and we are never prepared for it when it decides to strike. But we learn to move on with our lives anyway; we learn to put our grief behind us. I continue to do so with Natalia, and you shall do so with your mother. Death is a part of life, Sargoth. I know Natalia is waiting for me in Aetherius, and I long for the day when we embrace once again and I can feel her lips against mine. And I also believe you will reunite with your mother once the Gods decide it is time for you to leave Nirn."

Sengar was the wisest man I knew; I never doubted a single word he ever said to me. But as I am now a vampire myself, I know that Natalia did not go to Aetherius when she died. She is in Coldharbour, the realm of Lord Molag Bal. He laid claim to her soul the second she became a vampire, and it does sadden me to think that when Sengar did pass, he would still be without his dear wife.

* * *

"Sengar…. I need to tell you something, about the day Ghorzag disappeared," I said; I finally needed to get this off my chest.

"How long has it been since he was kidnapped by those bandits? Three years? I had no love for that family, but it's a shame what happened," said Sengar quietly.

"Ghorzag wasn't kidnapped."

"What do you mean my boy?"

"He's dead. I killed him. Him getting kidnapped was just a story I fabricated at the last minute," I confessed.

Sengar sighed, and I was terrified at what he might do. Would he yell at me? Kick me out of his house? Report me to the guards?

"I'd be lying if I said he didn't get what he deserved. He was a horrid person, as was his family. I know everyone is better off without them," Sengar said to me, and I was relieved by his words. There was one last thing on my mind, and I decided now was as good a time as any to tell Sengar.

"Sengar…" I started.

"Yes, my boy?"

"I'm leaving Bravil."

Sengar was not expecting that, and I could see tears rolling down his face once again.

"Are you sure that's what you want Sargoth?" he asked.

"I am. There's nothing for me here. Everything reminds me of mother, and it simply brings me too much pain to remain here," I explained to the old man.

"I understand, my boy. If this is where your heart is leading you, then you must follow it. I'll miss you Sargoth. You were like a son to me. Whatever you decide to do, may the Gods go with you," Sengar said.

"Thank you, Sen. For everything."

Sengar gave me some weapons and supplies, as well as food to take with me.

"Where will you go my boy?" Sengar asked.

"I don't know. Just….away from here," was all I said.

"If you ever need anything, just stop by anytime and let me know. I'll be here."

Sengar and I hugged for a brief moment, and then I gathered everything I was taking with me and left his house and departed through the Bravil gates.

I never saw the old man again.

* * *

It was a cold and dreary night. Crickets were stirring in the distance, and the gloomy gaze of the moons reflected off the clear, calm river that surrounded the city. A chilling breeze brushed my face. I made my way to the stables and made off with a black horse, and I rode off into the night.

I was reminded of mother and her story of her journey from Morrowind to Cyrodiil as she carried me inside her. Similar to her, I had no idea where I was going or what I would do. I knew that I just wanted to get away from Bravil and leave behind everything that remained of my life there.

Sorrow filled my heart as I gazed at the shining stars above me. I worried about what would happen to me next; what road my life would lead me down. Was I making the right choice? Was there something greater in store for me? I pondered these questions as my horse trotted into the dark forest. A chapter of my life ended that night, and another was soon to begin. For better or worse, I was ready to embrace whatever fate had in store for me.


	11. Reflection & Desolation

_A lone wolf is howling in the distance  
__A song as beautiful as a garden of roses  
And as chilling as a frigid blizzard  
A cry of sorrow, a cry of loneliness_

_How did it come to be so?  
Was it left to die by its pack?  
Or its friends all killed, perhaps?  
And left to fend for itself?_

_The echoing notes linger in the sky  
Perhaps it is like me  
Alone, and lost  
With no direction; no comfort  
Wandering aimlessly through this land  
Like a forlorn spirit, trapped in misery_

_The air falls silent; the wolf ceases its song  
The glowing embers before me my only warmth  
Against the bitter wrath of the night  
As I search hopelessly for the light to shine away  
This wretched and never-ending darkness_

* * *

It was the seventh of Evening Star; I had been on the road approximately three weeks. After I left Bravil I immediately headed north. I had not a single clue in my troubled mind where I was going to go; several possibilities lingered within my head. Perhaps I would go to the Imperial City; find a decent paying job and perhaps even be able to afford a small little place of my own. If that failed, I could always stow aboard a ship. Several vessels were docked at the Waterfront every day; if I was able to just make my way onto one of them, I would be able to start a new life in a completely new province.

Maybe I would end up in the Summerset Isle, home of the High Elves. Although not much is known about the island besides its inhabitants, I had read in several books that it was a beautiful and mystical land, shrouded in mystery and wonder. Several years down the road, my journeys did end up leading me there, and I can confirm that the island lives up to its legend in every way. Large, dense woodlands shrouded in mist stretch across much of the terrain; surrounded by the clear blue waters of the vast oceans. The architecture of many of the structures is much more natural than most would be used to seeing. Several villages are built among the towering trees; surrounded by swirling vines that stretch for miles through the endless thickets of the forests. Looking into the sky, one can see the many crystalline, sparkling towers that extend higher than the looming mountains and into the misty skies. Standing atop one of these towers, you can see the luminous glow of the golden lights that shine above from the heavens themselves. At night, you can see the reflection of the twin moons off the calm waters as the loons sing in the distance while auroras line the skies; shining several vibrant colors above the clear pastures. It is truly a wondrous experience; one that I would love to have at least once more in my life.

Perhaps I would end up in Elsweyr instead; I could live amongst the Khajiit in the endless tropical jungles, surrounded by the various ecosystems and wildlife that occupied much of the province. My imagination began to stir with all the possible directions my life could take; the different places I could end up and the different occupations I could take to support myself and pass the time. If all else failed, I knew I could always go to Morrowind and live among my own people. Surely I would be able to find work as an alchemist's assistant or maybe even serve one of the mighty Telvanni wizards. Perhaps I could serve in the glorious manors of one of the lords of the powerful Great Houses of Morrowind.

My mind was simply overwhelmed by all the different choices that lay before me; I constantly worried about choosing the wrong one. Doubt and uncertainty plagued my heart; gnawing away at my very soul like a horde of small termites that slowly chews away a piece of wood until it is nothing but dust. My only source of comfort and peace through that cold night was the warm, glowing fire that I had started in the little camp I set up just west of the river. The crickets continued to chirp in the distance; the soothing rustle of the waterfalls as they flowed rapidly into the river below was pleasing to my weary ears. The hair stood on the back of my neck and goosebumps formed on my arms as I heard the various sounds of the nocturnal wildlife stirring amongst the swaying trees. Their soothing, but eerie calls echoed through my ears, and my mind became lost as I looked at the gazing moons.

As I sat by the small fire, my thoughts returned to my home in Bravil. As terrible a city it may have been, it was still my home; it was where I was born and raised, and I actually began to miss the place slightly. I thought about Sengar a lot; I felt bad about leaving him. I knew that he was lonely, and that he had hardly any people in his life after Natalia's passing. I knew that he saw me as a son, and perhaps I was the only friend he had after the tragedy of his wife. I still think of the old man often. I know he is long gone by now, but I often find myself wondering what became of him after I left. I certainly hope that he did eventually find the happiness and tranquility that he so desperately sought. I hope he was finally able to fully come to grips with Natalia's death and stop blaming himself for what happened. I hope his passing was peaceful; that he was filled with joy and serenity by the wonderful memories and experiences that made up his life. I most certainly saw Sengar as a father figure. It was from him that I learned the wonders of magic, the beauty of nature and all its wildlife, and the vast and extensive stories and lore that shaped our world into what it is today. I will always be appreciative of what Sengar did for me. He was my mentor and my best friend; I always knew I could go to him with any problems, and his words of wisdom never left my heart. I will never forget that kind and wise old man, or the huge role he played in my childhood.

More than anything else though, my thoughts always returned to my mother. It was soon approaching two months since her suicide, and I was still struggling to come to terms with that horrible, tragic night. The morbid image of her bloodied corpse was still fresh in my mind; I still felt like I could taste the pool of blood that soaked the floor that night. I kept her suicide note with me; not a single night passed where I didn't take it out and read the wrinkled page for hours on end. I still felt like this was all just a terrible nightmare; that none of this was real. I was going to wake up one morning, and everything was going to be all right; everything was going to be just the way it was. I was going to wake up to a large, scrumptious breakfast waiting for me on the kitchen table as I often did, and ma and I would just spend the morning talking with each other.

I knew I was in denial, but I was still unable to shake the feeling from my head. At first, I felt angry at my mother. I thought that it was selfish of her to simply take her own life and leave me alone here, with the troubles and hardships of the world. I was angry that she took what I saw as the easy way out instead of fighting her problems directly and trying to work them out. Over time however, I began to realize that it would be even more selfish of _me_ to force my mother to live a life she did not wish to continue living. It would be unfair to ask her to continue to endure the pain and suffering she felt inside of her just for my sake. Sengar once told me that if you truly love someone, if you truly care about them and want them to be happy, that you must respect their decisions, even if you don't agree with them. I realized that as much as her death hurt me, as much as I wished she hadn't have done it, it was still her choice to make. If death was the only way for my mother to achieve the peace and happiness she desired, then I had to put my feelings aside and respect that decision. Every person has the right to live, and I also believe they have the right to die. It is not our place to tell people that suicide is wrong, or that it is selfish. If that is what a person wants to do, it is entirely within their right to do so.

That doesn't make the grief any easier to deal with though. I would trade everything I have earned, every feat I have achieved, and every power that I possess, simply to look upon her face one more time and tell her that I love her.

Thoughts continued to race through my mind as the sounds of the night continued to stir within the forest. The embers of my campfire grew dim, and the leaves were dancing with the restless wind. Sleep began to overtake me; my eyes were struggling to stay open. I lay in the small bedroll from my bag, and I listened to the echoes of the nighttime creatures as I drifted into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

The next morning saw a beautiful sunrise; the morning sun brought a warm and pleasing sensation to my skin. The wind had died down, and not a cloud could be seen in the clear sky. The flowers stood tall in the evergreen fields as the bees collected their nectar. As I sat up in my bedroll and basked in the scenery, I realized that I desperately needed a bath. After fixing myself a quick breakfast, I walked over to the nearby river and stood at the edge just over the water. There was not a single ripple flowing through the calm river; I could see a couple schools of fish swimming happily beneath the water's surface as I continued to stare. After a moment, I set my clothes aside and stepped into the water.

The river was cold for the first moment; a long shiver coursed through my spine as I stepped in. The water did grow warmer after a while, and I lay in the river for several minutes; floating on my back as I closed my eyes and let the warmth of the river embrace my aching muscles. I briefly dunked my head beneath the water so I could wash the grease and dirt from my hair. I could feel the grime being washed off of me, and I felt a refreshing sensation I hadn't felt in what seemed like an age. As I ran my fingers through my hair and the water dripped down my face, I could see my reflection within the clear river. This was the first time in several years I had actually seen myself.

My eyes were still as red as a burning fire. My face was already beginning to grey significantly, whereas it used to be a more greenish color when I was younger. Several scars lined my face, most of which were a result of Ghorzag's beatings. Most of those scars still remain today, forever reminding me of the terrible abuse that Orc brought upon me. My black shoulder length hair formed a frame around my face, and I could scarcely make out the slight stubble of facial hair that was beginning to grow above my lip and on my jawline. I can't remember exactly how long I spent staring into my own eyes in that river. Part of me was in disbelief at how much I had changed over the years; I was wondering if it was indeed me I was looking at.

Once I felt clean enough, I finally stepped out of the water and let myself dry off. After getting my clothes back on, I began to pack my supplies into my bag and attached it to the horse I had stolen from the Bravil stables. I galloped away from the area and began to ride northwest.

I passed by several farms as I rode further and further. The farmers would wave kindly at me as they tended their crops, and the livestock were moving about in the pastures as they enjoyed the warm sun. I would occasionally pass by the odd hunter, quietly stalking their prey, likely not even taking any notice of me whatsoever. Sometimes I would stop and watch them; I would analyze their technique and make notes to myself on what they were doing. I ended up doing a bit of hunting myself that afternoon, and I brought down a fairly large deer to have for lunch.

As the afternoon turned into dusk, I could see the White-Gold Tower in the Imperial City looming in the distance. The sun was setting behind the massive structure, and it was reflecting a long beam of light from the top that stretched far to the east. As I rode a little ways further, I could make out the ruined city of Kvatch.

I heard the stories of that fateful night, the night that a once mighty, prosperous, and sprawling metropolis was reduced to nothing but a pile of rubble and ash. It was the beginning of the Oblivion Crisis; the Daedric army of Mehrunes Dagon were opening demonic portals known as Oblivion Gates all across the land. One night, a gate opened before the gates of Kvatch, and a legion of Daedra began spewing forth from the massive portal. The city guard didn't stand a chance against such a deadly and ferocious attack. The Daedra brought with them a terrible machine of destruction, and it completely obliterated the walls. After that, they swarmed the city; killing every civilian and guard in their path. Very few made it out safely, and the city was lost within minutes.

In the aftermath of the attack, it was said that a lone hero came to the city and stepped into the Oblivion Gate itself. The hero was single-handedly able to shut the gate, and by leading what remained of the town guard, the Daedra were driven out and the city was retaken.

As I rode closer to the city, I could see the ashes that were still smoldering. I dismounted my horse in front of the iron gates, and I could see the scorch marks on the ground where the Oblivion Gate once stood. Kvatch was once as large as the Imperial City, and I stood in shock as I tried to imagine the magnitude of an attack that could bring down such a mighty city in such a short amount of time.

My curiosity got the better of me, and I decided I would explore the deserted city for a short while. I slowly pushed open the large gate that still stood, and I began to step inside the ruins.

* * *

As I stepped inside the decimated city, I was greeted by the sight of crumbled walls and destroyed houses where slight amounts of smoke could still be seen rising from them. The stench of fire and ash filled the air; I found myself coughing several times as I tried to clear my lungs of the lingering smoke. As I walked further into the ruins of Kvatch, I could see the charred remains of both civilians and Daedra that still littered the streets. I assumed that most of these people had escaped from their homes and were desperately running towards the gate, only to be ruthlessly cut down and murdered by the invading Daedra horde. The scene was gruesome to be sure, but at the same time my sense of morbid curiosity couldn't help but be somewhat fascinated by all the death that surrounded me. As I saw more and more bodies lying on the streets, I caught myself trying to envision these people's final moments, and how they had died. Some of the corpses were missing limbs, others had blades and axes still buried into their flesh, and some were completely decapitated with their heads nowhere in sight. I got a sick feeling in my stomach as the realization dawned on me that all these people were once living beings. They all had different backgrounds; different stories to their lives. These people once had families, friends, jobs, aspirations, dreams, and fears. Each of these people had their own story to tell, and now they were gone forever. In one single night, these people who were all once so full of life, became nothing. Empty shells of what they once were, they now served as nothing but meals to the swarms of crows that infested the city. I stood in the middle of the large area where Kvatch's arena used to be, and across from me a short distance away, I could see the Chapel of Akatosh that was still standing. It was probably the only building that wasn't completely decimated when the Daedra invaded.

The most morbid and disheartening sight that I can remember during my exploration of Kvatch was when I decided to explore inside one of the mansions. The front side of the house was all but destroyed; the front doors and several windows were busted in. What I saw in the once glorious manor will forever be etched into my mind. Almost everything in the house was entirely in shambles: tables and chairs were overturned, bookshelves were toppled onto the ground with several books scattered among the mess, scorch marks lined most of the walls where flames had engulfed them, and the floors were covered with several blood-stains that had long dried into them.

It wasn't until I made my way up the rotted and crumbling stairs and entered the master bedroom that I saw the most disturbing thing in that place. Beside the bed in a back corner of the room, I could see the burnt remains of two bodies; a man and a woman. As I slowly drew closer to them, I could see that they both had their arms wrapped around each other, locked in a tight, loving embrace. I could see their faces pressed against each other, sharing one last kiss before their impending demise. Both of the corpses had rings on their fingers which were still perfectly intact, so I only assumed that they were married. I walked into the adjacent room, and despite almost everything being burnt to a crisp, I could see a small crib along with several toys scattered across the floor. I then realized that this was going to be a baby's room. This couple, whoever they were, must have been expecting their first child. My heart sank for a brief moment, and I grieved silently for the would-be parents who never got to meet that child they must have been so excited for, who never got to hear its first words, who never got to be there to comfort it when it cried, and who never got to watch it grow up until it was old enough to set out on its own.

I honestly don't know why I was so disturbed by that sight. Perhaps it was the fact that these people knew that they were trapped; that there was no hope of escaping. They knew their doom was at hand, and in their final seconds in this world, they decided to share one last moment of pure love. Even in the face of imminent death, their love kept them together until the very end; until they left Nirn together in each other's arms.

I explored the mansion for only a few minutes longer until I decided I had enough of that depressing city. I left the house and once I was back on the streets, I began to make my way back to the gate. As I drew nearer to the gate, I began to hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching behind me. I thought it rather strange for anyone else to be in this city as well, so I initially ignored it. It was only a moment later that I heard the sound again. I turned around, and immediately my suspicions that I was being followed were confirmed.

* * *

A male Khajiit emerged from the shadows; he wore a tattered fur coat with a small hood that came up over his face. His legs were protected by steel armor, and I saw a belt around his waist with several coin purses attached, as well as twin daggers. I knew this was not going to be a friendly encounter.

"All right, hand over the valuables and no blood has to be spilt," the Khajiit said calmly. I tried to keep my cool, but I was quickly growing frightened, and I was already beginning to think this was the end for me.

I turned back around to run toward the gate, but my path was blocked by a female Bosmer. She wore a cuirass made from a saber cat's hide and leather trousers that covered her legs. A large black bow was slung around her back, and I could see she had several arrows sitting in her quiver which rested behind her blonde hair.

"Looks like you're outta luck, kid," she smirked, "Just do what he says and this won't get violent."

I stood motionless for a moment. It took a few seconds for my brain to fully process that this was actually happening.

"Do I _look_ like I have anything valuable?" I tried to bluff.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, you do," the Khajiit spoke up again, "That bow looks like it'd fetch a handsome price, and gods know what's in that bag of yours."

"Look grey-skin, we're not going to ask again," the Bosmer's voice was growing with impatience, "Hand everything over, or there will be another corpse added to these wretched streets," she threatened me.

I was not going to give in to their demands. Those were the only things I had. I doubt I would have lasted a day without those supplies. No, I was going to fight. If they wanted my stuff that badly, they could pry it from my dead hands. I would _die_ before they got a hold of my things. I slowly drew the dagger that Sengar had given me.

"Come get it then," I said softly.

The Khajiit laughed, "Big mistake," he said before drawing his dual daggers.

He spun the daggers in his hands for a couple seconds before he charged at me. He delivered two quick swings at my torso, and I was able to dodge them both. The Khajiit was fast and incredibly swift, and I knew if I dropped my guard even once, that would be the end of me.

I crossed daggers with the Khajiit several times; the clash of our steel was shrill and unpleasant to my ears. In the corner of my eye I could see the Bosmer unsheathing her bow, and I struggled to remain calm as she readied her first arrow.

The Khajiit grunted and swung at me again as the Bosmer released her bowstring. I quickly jumped out of the arrow's path, and I watched the tip stick firmly into the ground. The Bosmer cursed, and she retreated back a few steps to ready another arrow.

I was completely panicked at this point. Dodging the Khajiit's fierce attacks as well as the Bosmer's arrows was quickly becoming too much for me. I spun around and began to swing at the Khajiit with my small dagger. In an unanticipated move, he ducked and sliced open a small portion of my hip. I clutched the wound briefly, but I had no time to tend to it. In another swift strike, the Khajiit sliced my hand, causing me to drop my dagger. I retreated several steps, and another arrow from the Bosmer flew past me; missing me by mere inches. I drank one of the healing potions from my bag, and the Khajiit charged me again,

I dodged my way around him, and I was able to run back and retrieve my dagger. The Bosmer drew her sword, and she held it high above her head before lunging at me. My attackers stood at opposite ends of me; my anxiety took hold of me, and I felt like a defenseless rabbit running away from a famished wolf. My heart was beating a thousand times its normal speed as I waited for someone to make the first attack.

Unsurprisingly, the Khajiit swung first. His dagger missed me as I jumped back, and I saw the Bosmer who was nearly struck by his attack.

"Hey! Watch it J'rokar!" she shouted angrily. I knew then how I was going to win this fight.

I positioned myself in front of the Khajiit, and predictably the Bosmer took her stance behind me. I crossed blades with the Khajiit again, and I kicked the Bosmer to the ground as she charged me. After she regained her footing, I decided it was time to enact my plan. It carried great risk, but if my timing was just right, one of the attackers would kill the other one for me.

I let the Khajiit land a blow on me, and I dropped to one knee. Both my attackers stood over me, and the Khajiit brought his arm back to deliver what he thought would be the finishing blow. He began to make a jabbing motion with his arm, and at the last second I rolled out of the way. I stood back up just in time to see that my plan had worked. The Khajiit accidentally drove his dagger right through his accomplice's abdomen. She cried in pain and fell to the ground from his reckless strike. Her breaths became strained as she desperately tried to stop the blood pouring out of her. Her struggling was pointless, and she bled to death within seconds.

"One down," I smirked.

"No! Kaireena!" the Khajiit shouted in terror at what he had just done, "Enough of this! You die now!"

He let out a shrill growl and charged ferociously at me; his attacks becoming more desperate and reckless. I was quickly running out of breath, and his strikes were only growing faster and faster. He kicked me to the ground, and he laughed as he readied his final attack. It was then that almost from nowhere, an arrow came flying through the air, and pierced the Khajiit square in his neck. He gurgled for several seconds as he choked on his own blood, then he died shortly after.

I stood back up as I began to look for the one who saved me. I could make out the shape of a hooded figure standing by Kvatch's main gate. He made his way toward me and lowered his hood, revealing himself to be an Argonian.

"At ease, Dunmer. I mean you no harm," he said to me, easing my anxiety.

"Thank you, Argonian. I would surely be dead now if it weren't for you," I said graciously.

"Think nothing of it friend. My name is Reejar, pleasure to meet you," the Argonian said as he extended his hand to me.

"Sargoth. Pleasure to meet you as well," I said to Reejar as I shook his scaly hand.

"What's someone so young like you doing in a deserted city like this?" Reejar asked me curiously.

"Running," I replied.

"From?"

"Everything."

Reejar let out a laugh, "Join the club."

* * *

After making our way out of the city, Reejar and I mounted our horses and slowly trotted away. Within minutes, Kvatch was nothing but a mere speck in the distance. We rode for an hour before stopping at a clear spot in the woods to set up a campsite. Reejar set up a tent and laid out some bedrolls on the ground, and I used my flame spell to get a fire going. Reejar and I talked as we cooked some dinner over the warm fire.

"So Sargoth, from where do you hail?" the Argonian asked.

"I'm from Bravil," I began, "I was born and raised there all my life. Didn't leave very often either. My mother raised me by herself," I explained.

"Why did you leave? What made you leave behind the security of your home and come out here in the harsh wilderness?" Reejar asked.

I initially felt uneasy answering his questions, but he did save my life, and I was happy to have somebody to talk to after being alone for several weeks.

"Well, my mother..she…..she," I struggled to speak, "She died," I said solemnly.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, friend. To lose a parent at such a young age….this must be a difficult time for you," Reejar said sympathetically.

"I miss her so much. Everything in Bravil reminded me of her, and I simply had to leave," I said as I felt a couple tears make their way down my cheek.

"Understandable enough," Reejar said.

We sat in front of the cozy fire for several minutes as it warmed our bones. Finally I spoke up again.

"So what's your story anyway, Reejar? What were you doing in Kvatch?" I asked.

The Argonian was silent for a moment before answering.

"Like you, I am also running away from my home; my past," he began, "I lived in our homeland of Black Marsh, and only recently was I forced to leave," Reejar explained.

"Why did you have to leave?" I asked.

"Have you heard of the Shadowscales?" Reejar asked.

I thought for a brief moment.

"Just a few times. I know that any Argonian born under the Shadow sign are brought to the King of Black Marsh as a hatchling, and are then trained by the Dark Brotherhood in the arts of stealth and murder," I answered him.

"You are quite knowledgeable my young friend. Yes, I was trained by the Brotherhood my whole life. I eventually became the top assassin in my sanctuary in Black Marsh," said Reejar.

"So what happened that forced you to leave?"

"Well, as you probably know, a Shadowscale is forbidden from killing another Shadowscale. There are absolutely no exceptions, and to break this law is punishable by death. One night in our sanctuary, another Argonian and I were in a heated argument. I don't even remember what started it now. Regardless, my emotions got the best of me, and I killed him right there in cold blood, in front of the entire sanctuary," Reejar explained.

"I barely made it out of there alive. I ran for days straight; never stopping nor sleeping, constantly looking over my shoulder as I desperately tried to escape from my former colleagues. Eventually, I made it here to Cyrodiil, and I've been searching for a new purpose since then," the Argonian said, "Say, where are you headed to anyway Sargoth?"

"I honestly have no idea. I just wanted to get away from Bravil. I'm afraid I was a little short-sighted when coming up with my plan," I said to Reejar.

"Well, I'm on my way to Skingrad, and I strongly recommend you come with me. It's only a day's ride from here. The wilderness is not safe for someone so lightly armed and with no armor. I doubt you'll survive much longer out here," Reejar said.

"You're probably right. Skingrad's as good a place as any I suppose," I said.

After chatting a while longer, I lay down in one of the bedrolls and slowly drifted off to sleep. The fire was very comforting that night, and Reejar was whistling quietly as a couple creatures in the forest began to stir. I slept very peacefully that night, and the next morning I was awaken by Reejar shaking my shoulder.

"I'm afraid we must be off now my friend," Reejar said as I slowly opened my waking eyes.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Not exactly sure. I'd guess late morning. I don't like those rain clouds though, and I'd like to get to Skingrad as soon as possible," No later had the Argonian finished speaking that a flash of lightning lit up the sky and a heavy torrent of rain began to descend upon both of us.

We both lifted our hoods over our heads as we mounted our steeds and rode away quickly from our campsite.

* * *

The journey to Skingrad took us less than a day, but to me it felt as long as an eternity. I was becoming increasingly homesick, and I still thought constantly of my mother. How I wished I was back home in front of the warm fireplace, eating one of ma's delicious stews that she always made on stormy days. I still wished that none of this had happened. I wished I had been waking up in my cozy, warm bed instead of the damp ground. Wishing was pointless though; I knew that that life was behind me now, and nothing was going to bring it back. On the other hand though, I had always wanted to get out and explore more of Cyrodiil, and as grim as my situation was, I had to admit that the outside world was beautiful. I had already seen many incredible sights that I could have never even imagined, and I was looking forward to finally seeing Skingrad.

After several hours of enduring constant rainfall and harsh winds, I could see the grand city of Skingrad on the horizon. As Reejar and I drew closer to the city, I could see the large stone castle standing atop a large hill, separated from the rest of the city. There was a long bridge that led to the castle, supported by several arches and it also had many large torches across both sides. There were banners that draped along the stone walls, and I could also see a few guards posted nearby.

"Well, here we are my Dunmer friend. Welcome to Skingrad," said Reejar as he stopped his horse beside me.

I was in awe at the great city that stood before me.

"I had heard tales of Skingrad's beauty, but to see it for myself. I never would have thought it was this amazing," I said.

Reejar smirked, "I don't know about you, but I'm soaked to every last of my scales. Let us get ourselves indoors to a tavern and have a few well deserved drinks," the Argonian suggested, and I nodded in agreement.

A rush of excitement passed through me as we rode down the hillside to the gates of Skingrad. I had no idea what awaited me in this new city, but it had to be better than what I had in Bravil. This was the beginning of a new chapter in my life, and I was going to make the best of it. I was going to make something of myself here.

Reejar and I arrived at the stables, and after paying the owner a small fee, we left our horses and started to make our way to the gate.

"Now listen, friend. You're going to find that Skingrad is very different from what you're used to in Bravil. Just stick with me, and I'll show you everywhere in this city and tell you everything you need to know," Reejar assured me.

"Thanks Reejar. You know, for saving me in Kvatch and letting me come with you," I said to him gratefully.

"Come on; let's get out of this storm."

A guard gave us a nod of greeting as he opened the gates to the city. I took my first steps into Skingrad, and I was ready to face whatever the world was going to throw at me next. I was ready to start my new life.


	12. The Suspecting Target

My target walked straight past me as I sat crouched in silence in the dark and secluded alley of Skingrad. I had been stalking this Imperial since I saw him sitting in the West Weald Inn about ten minutes prior. He was clad in wealthy garbs, and I found myself short on money, so I decided to follow him and quietly scan through his pockets when the opportunity presented itself; surely he must have had something valuable. The sun had set not too long ago, and the twin moons were like glowing eyes; staring at me relentlessly as the sweat was dripping down my brow. The dark clouds looming in the evening sky shrouded my presence as I tried to maintain my distance from the target, who was blissfully unaware he was being followed.

The Imperial began to whistle a tune as I left the alley and started after him again. I took great care to ensure my steps were light and swift so as to not draw attention to myself. I passed by several of the houses that lined the city; many of them I could see inside slightly thanks to the candles that sat by the windows. It was approaching dinner time, and most of the common folk of the city were just coming home to their families after a hard day's work. Most of them sat at their dining tables every night and would fondly discuss the happenings of the day as they ate their large and scrumptious meals. Children would laugh as they bragged about the mischievous pranks they pulled that day, and everybody just seemed to enjoy each other's company. I couldn't help but feel a small hint of sadness as I saw all those families so happy together. It made me wish more than ever that I could've grown up with a normal family, and it reminded me of just how lonely I was. My mother was the only family I had; she was the only person who ever loved me and who was always there for me. With her gone, I had absolutely nobody in my life; I was utterly and completely alone.

Now was not the time to think of such things however. My target was coming to a secluded area in the city, and my window of opportunity was fast approaching. I felt my heart race as I drew nearer to his pocket; I could hear the clinking sound of gold coins jiggling as he strode down the street. I was always on the lookout for guards; I knew that at any second my plan could go up in smoke if a guard passed by and saw what I was doing. But luck was on my side that night and no guards were in the immediate area. My target walked behind one of the large houses, and that was when he stopped to tie his shoe. I knew this was my chance; we were completely out of anybody's view and he was still oblivious that he was about to be robbed. After taking a breath, I crept forward until I was directly behind him. The Imperial was still happily whistling, and I began to quietly and gently untie the small string that held his coin purse to his waist. Fear was swelling inside me; all he had to do was turn around and I would be spending a night in the dungeon. I took extra care to not make a single sound so I wouldn't give myself away; I was even holding my breath as I undid the string. After a few seconds, the string came loose and the coin purse was now in my hands, and I swiftly made off into the shadows of the night.

I let out a silent chuckle when I got a safe distance away from the Imperial; I tossed the coin purse in the air several times, and eventually I could hear him cursing in the distance as he realized he had just been robbed.

There's nothing quite like the feeling of committing a crime like that. The thrill, the rush, the adrenaline that courses through your veins. The fear of knowing that your plan, no matter how well thought out and constructed it may be, can completely fall apart in the blink of an eye by something so small and beyond your control. You can almost feel your heart throbbing at the speed of light as it threatens to burst straight through your chest as you draw closer to your target; knowing that you could be caught literally at any second. I loved it though, and the feeling of relief and the thrill of success that runs through you when you manage to pull it off made all the dangers worth it. Not to mention, the pay-off was absolutely incredible. Skingrad is one of the wealthiest cities in Cyrodiil; the citizens literally walk the streets while flaunting their coin purses around. They're pretty much asking for a pickpocket like me to come along and help themselves to their valuables.

It was Reejar who had taught me how to be an accomplished thief. Honest work was hard to come by, and he knew that if I was going to have any hope of surviving on my own, I was going to have to hone my skills in larceny. I remember it was the day after we arrived in Skingrad that Reejar taught me how to make a lockpick. He showed me how to take any ordinary piece of iron, and craft my own sturdy little pick from it. I began picking up as many pieces of scrap metal that I could find, and before I knew it, I found myself with an impressive collection of lockpicks.

Reejar also taught me how to properly pickpocket an unsuspecting target whilst remaining unseen. He showed me everything from proper foot technique, to keeping a good distance away from my target while following them, to controlling my breathing and my anxiety, and of course he told me all the best techniques for actually relieving my target of their valuables once the window of opportunity opened. I swallowed every word of the Argonian's teachings, and I found that pickpocketing came very naturally to me. The fact that I had not once been caught yet spoke volumes of my skill, and Reejar even said that I had the makings of a born thief.

Of course my thievery didn't end with pickpocketing. After getting the hang of that, Reejar moved on to teaching me about burglary. He told me how to pick the perfect house to break into, how to scan the property for the best point of entry, how to pick out all the best spots in the house for the most valuable loot, and he always reminded me to have an escape plan ready in case anything were to go wrong.

"_Always expect the unexpected_," I remember him saying to me, "_The shadows are the thief's most reliable ally, but even they can betray you by times. Be sure to always plan your exit strategy as soon as you first enter, for the greatest thieves know that anything can happen in a matter of seconds, and making a swift escape is crucial in avoiding spending the night behind bars_."

I always kept Reejar's wise words in the back of my mind, and it was because of him I was able to afford a nice hot meal every night as well as rent a room at the inn and sleep in a warm bed. I know this would not have been possible if I had gotten an honest job instead, and besides, that kind of life wasn't my thing anyway. Waking up every morning at the crack of dawn and then proceeding to do menial work on a farm or in a mine for hours on end with absolutely abysmal wages was not what I wanted in my life. Being a thief provided me with more money, and more exhilaration than I could have possibly imagined.

* * *

I arrived back at the West Weald Inn and sat down at a table and began counting my loot. I separated the coins into groups to help keep track of them, and after a couple minutes I snickered as I counted four-hundred septims total. I knew that was probably enough to keep me going for a whole week. I never felt remorse when I robbed somebody. I always made sure to only target the wealthy folks who already had too much and wouldn't miss a couple hundred septims. I never stole from the poor, and neither did I rob children. Most of my targets were men, but women were certainly fair game as well if they looked wealthy enough. I also made a point of avoiding the pockets of any fellow Dunmer, though there were not too many of them living in Skingrad anyways.

As I put the coins back in the leather pouch, the innkeeper approached my table.

"What'll ya have tonight Sargoth?" she asked me. She had gotten to know me quite a bit as I had been living there for a while now.

I decided I was going to treat myself to an expensive meal that night for my rather impressive haul. "Roast venison, with mashed potatoes and vegetables. I also want a rabbit stew with that, and a bottle of Surilie Brothers Wine to wash it down with," I answered.

After the innkeeper took my order I set some coins on the table to pay for my food as well as the room for another week. I headed upstairs to my room after finishing my meal, and after lighting a small fire in the fireplace I lay down in the double bed and closed my eyes for a moment as the warmth from the burning fire began to fill the air. As I basked in the silence around me, I began thinking of my life and everything that led up to this point.

* * *

It was the month of Last Seed in the year twenty-five. I was nineteen years old and I had been living in Skingrad for almost two years. I was remembering the very first time I laid eyes upon the wondrous city. It looked so huge to me then, like something out of a dream. The mighty walls looked as colossal as the Jerall Mountains, and the many stone towers that lined the walls stood high and proud as they overlooked the entirety of the city. I was amazed the first time I stepped into the streets; how immensely different they were to Bravil's. They were paved entirely of rich stones; several marble statues stood in honor of fallen heroes. Several tall trees were looming around the city, with gardens where flowers of every color grew to exquisite beauty. The buildings were more impressive than anything I had ever seen before. Skingrad was full of luxurious shops and mansions with arched doorways and windows, and pointed roofs that resembled the summit of a mountain. Balconies jutted outwards from the higher floors where the citizens could enjoy a grand view of the streets. The different districts of the city were joined by long bridges and tall, arched gateways. Red banners bearing the crescent moon symbol of Skingrad could be seen all over the city. The Chapel of Julianos stood in the southern half of the city, where many citizens would gather and pray for blessings. A small graveyard sat next to it; bouquets of roses could be seen withering in front of several of the monuments.

Adjusting to life in a completely new city was a struggle, but fortunately Reejar stayed by my side for several months and helped me get settled in. He told me much of the city's history and he gave me a tour, telling me where all the shops and inns were. When he began teaching me about thievery, he pointed out all the best hiding spots in case I was ever to get caught on a job. He also set me up with one of his contacts who would fence any stolen goods I came across. Reejar became an invaluable friend to me during those months; it was because of him I was able to become as well off as I was. I owed him a great debt, and it brought me great sadness when he told me he was finally leaving and moving on with his life. I hope the future was as kind to that Argonian as he was to me.

* * *

I awoke in the middle of the night after yet another dream about my mother. I dreamt of her often, and I found myself wishing that I could just stay in those dreams forever. In those dreams, the troubles of my life were non-existent. I was without care or worry; everything was peaceful, everything was right, everything was just the way it should've been. I was happy, and most of all, my mother was happy, and alive. Every time I awoke and returned to my troubled reality, I was always stricken with a feeling of sorrow as I realized that nothing I had just seen was real. The feeling was sharp and intense; like a small dagger being driven through my gut and was slowly being twisted deeper and deeper inside of me. I've always thought that dreams were a fascinating thing. I saw them as a way to escape the cruel reality that life brought; they were a way for my imagination to soar and break free from the limits of real life. In my dreams, I was able to feel peace and happiness that I was never able to feel otherwise.

I pushed the blankets on my bed away from me and slowly stood up as I yawned and stretched my arms. I made my way to the window and stared outside at the calm night. I could hear a slight breeze blowing, and I could scarcely see the moons that were shrouded by clouds of darkness. The fireplace was long burnt out, and my room began to grow cold once again. I sat down in a chair in the corner, and almost out of nowhere the desire to commit a burglary began to burn inside of me. The undeniable thrill, the irresistible feeling of mischief, the silent call of danger that echoed through my ears was strong that night. I decided to give in to my urges, and after putting on my jacket and lifting the hood over my face, I crept out of the inn and stepped outside to the empty streets of Skingrad.

* * *

I made my way through the shadows to the section of the city that contained the wealthiest houses. Some of them were so large and monstrous; I felt like they were staring down at me, staring straight into my soul and judging me for the crime I was about to commit. The memory of my first ever burglary with Marcellus' shop always replayed in my mind whenever I was about to break into a house. I had learned a great deal since that incident, and I swore I would never make those same mistakes again. I scanned the area for a brief moment to see if any guards were around, and shortly after I decided which house was going to be my target that night.

I came down to a low crouch as I snuck to the front door. I examined the locks and saw that they were slightly above my skill level. With enough time and patience I knew I would eventually pick open the door, but I wanted to spare my picks, and the chances of being spotted by a guard increased with every second I wasted trying to open the door. I figured the best way in would be through one of the windows, and I slowly made my way to the back side of the mansion. The area was completely dark; I might as well have been invisible that moment. I grabbed a lockpick from my pocket and began to pick open one of the windows. My breaths were tense and I could see the slight amounts of air coming from my mouth with every exhale. I heard the slight click which indicated my pick was in the right spot, and I slowly began to turn the lock open. The lock was not well made at all, and it easily came unlocked with just one turn. That whole moment lasted perhaps ten seconds at the most, but the anxiety and the thrill inside me made it feel like a millennia.

I slid the window open and finally made my way into the house. My eyes were greeted by the sight of dusty barrels and cobwebs hanging in the corners of the ceiling. I realized I must have been in a storage room and came to the conclusion that there was likely nothing valuable in there. Remaining in my crouch, I opened the door and came into the living room of the grand house. There were several candelabras standing around the perimeter of the room. A rug made of a bear's hide sat in front of a wide fireplace, and three leather chairs were positioned around it. I saw a few expensive paintings that adorned the walls as I continued my search for anything valuable. I spotted a large bookcase across the room and I made my way over to it. I began to lightly tap the groups of books that stood on the wooden shelves. Reejar had told me to always pay attention to bookcases, as quite often they were used to hide a safe. His advice paid off that particular night, and I felt that one of the groups of books was hollow. I silently pulled open the secret door, and I smiled when I saw the small safe sitting comfortably in its spot. I grabbed another lockpick and got to work. This lock was slightly more difficult than the one to the window, as would be expected. I got the pick set in place, but I rushed when turning the lock, and my ears were met with that all too familiar snapping sound. I cursed quietly at my miscalculation, and I reached for another pick and tried again. I readjusted the position of the pick ever so slightly, and this time I successfully rotated the lock all the way. I opened the safe and grabbed the pouch that sat inside. Inside it were countless glowing jewels and gems. Emeralds, rubies, garnets, and even a couple sapphires and amethysts met my gaze. I sneered with mischievous delight at my good fortune, and I tucked the pouch away in my pocket.

I was startled by an unexpected sound upstairs, and fear immediately began to swell inside of me as I thought perhaps one of the residents of the house had woken up. I hid inside an empty closet that stood nearby, and I could hear my deep breaths as I waited for the sound to appear again. I began to think the jig was up, and my anxiety was overtaking me with every second that passed.

I waited for a good two or three minutes in that closet, and after not hearing anything I decided the coast was clear. I now made my way up the carpeted stairs onto the second floor, and I saw a long hallway to my left. Carpets are a thief's best friend. They do wonders in masking the sound of your footsteps, and most of the time your movements are all but completely silent. A long, green carpet was spread across the hallway, and I snuck my way to the door at the end which I presumed to be the master bedroom. I looked through the keyhole and saw that I was right; a husband and wife were sleeping peacefully in their bed, and I was going to rob them blind.

The bedroom is always the most dangerous and risky part of the house and quite often the most valuable as well. Only the most experienced of thieves are recommended to try the bedroom, as you must be even more discreet than usual to avoid waking your marks whom are only mere inches away from you now. But I was feeling confident that night, and I slowly turned the brass knob and pushed the door open.

I knew I hit the jackpot as soon as I set foot in that bedroom. A large vanity stood to the left of me with countless necklaces and other pieces of jewelry just begging to be stolen. I swiped them all like a child taking candy and stuffed them into my jacket pockets. The couple in the bed were snoring like horkers, and I made my way over to the nightstand that was beside the bed. I took the small strongbox that sat atop of it to open later. I snuck my way back out of the bedroom and shut the door again; the residents still unaware that they had just been robbed of thousands of septims worth of valuables. I went back out the same window I came in through, and that rush of success I felt after every job began to overwhelm me once more. That burglary could not have gone much smoother. I walked back to my room at the inn with glee, and after sitting down on the bed, I picked open the strongbox.

I didn't believe my eyes at what I saw. My jaw dropped to the floor for several seconds as I marveled at the sparkling blue diamond ring that was firmly placed in the box. It was moments like these that made being a thief the greatest occupation in the world.

I awoke late in the morning the next day. I quickly ate some breakfast at the inn, and then I gathered all my loot and excitedly made my way to the store where Reejar's secret contact was to collect my pay. I opened the door to the store and stepped inside. The owner, a Nord named Bjorlis who was also the secret fence, smiled and greeted me.

"Good to see you Sargoth! What have ya got for me today?!" he asked in an eager, booming tone of voice.

"Check these out," was all I said as I opened my jacket and lay the jewelry upon his counter.

Bjorlis was impressed, "Not bad my Dunmer friend, not bad at all!" He began examining my loot closely.

"That's not all, my friend," I took out the diamond ring and held it before him, grinning in pride.

"Stendarr's mercy!" Bjorlis grabbed the ring and began looking at it in awe, "I have not seen a diamond this finely cut in decades! I'm not even going to ask who you robbed to come by this," the Nord smirked.

"So what can you give me for this Bjorlis?"

The Nord hummed for a moment as he continued examining the valuable collection that sat upon his counter.

"How does…..eight grand sound?" Bjorlis asked me.

I couldn't believe what I had just heard. That was more money than I had made in all my time in Skingrad so far combined. With that kind of money, I could afford just about anything I wanted.

"You've got a deal, friend," I said almost instantly.

Bjorlis loaded my payment in several large coin purses, and I was able to fit all of them into my jacket pockets. I went back to my room at the inn and locked most of the gold in the chest that sat in front of my bed, keeping just a few hundred septims with me. I decided to go to the Mages Guild's headquarters in the city and see if they had any new spell tomes for sale. Along with thievery, I always continued to practice my skills in magic. I was currently working on mastering the Muffle spell that Sengar started teaching me before I left Bravil. I had improved a lot since then, and it had become most valuable during my larceny jobs.

* * *

As I was nearing the Guild's building, I saw someone walking down the street at a rather brisk pace. He wore a long robe as black as the shadows themselves, and I saw several fancy silver designs elegantly stitched into the fabric. His face was completely shrouded by his large, pointed hood, but I could tell just from his arrogant and pompous-like stride that he was an Altmer. What caught my eye the most however, was the glowing amulet dangling from his back pocket.

_By Talos! Is this Altmer crazy, or just stupid? That amulet is in plain sight, just begging to get stolen! This'll be __**too**__ easy!_

I cast my Muffle spell and quickened my own pace to match his. After following him for a minute, he stopped in front of a tree, and I crouched and began to move in. I reached out my hand as I approached behind him, and in one smooth, swift movement I removed the amulet from his pocket. As I turned around to escape, I felt a firm grasp upon my wrist. I looked back and saw to my horror that the Altmer had caught me; his golden eyes were glowing like balls of fire through his hood as he gave me a stare as cold as the grave.

"_That_ does not belong to you, _boy,_" the Altmer said with a calm, but stern demeanor.

"Let me go!" I was struggling fruitlessly to free myself from his tightening grip.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Sargoth," I answered the menacing Altmer. I was expecting him to drive his sword through me any second. I could see him closely examining me, and he began to speak again.

"Hmmm, yes, I think I could use someone like you," he began, "Your technique is very fluid, although it needs work."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you tire of this life, Sargoth? Are you bored of stealing from rich old geezers with gold stuffed up their backsides? Do you wish to see more of the world, and in the process, make more money than you could possibly imagine?" the High Elf asked with much eagerness in his voice.

I thought over his question for several moments. As much as I loved thieving, he had a point. I was growing bored of Skingrad. I did want to see the rest of Cyrodiil, and of course I wanted more money. However, that would mean packing up all my things once again and leaving behind everything I had come to know over the past two years.

I sighed, "What do you have in mind?"

"Not here. Meet me in the West Weald Inn in ten minutes. We will speak over some tankards like proper gentlemen," he let go of my wrist and walked away.

I quickly ran to the Inn like he said and sat down at a table in the corner. The Altmer kept his word, and shortly after I saw him walk through the front door. He pulled out the other chair at the table and sat across from me. He removed his hood, revealing very long tresses of silver hair. There was not a speck of facial hair upon his gold-colored skin.

I ordered a whiskey, and the Altmer had Colovian Brandy.

"So, who are you and what do you want with me?" I asked as I took the first sip from my tankard.

"What I am about to tell you does not leave this inn, you understand?" the Elf asked as he also took a sip.

"You have my word," I promised.

"Good. My name is Galthar, and I am the leader of a group called the Crimson Serpents," he explained.

"Never heard of them," I replied.

"I don't imagine you would have. We are _very _low-profile. Very few people know of our existence, and I aim to keep it that way," Galthar drank from his tankard again.

"So what is it exactly that you do?" I asked Galthar curiously.

"Just about anything that pays, my friend. Theft, assassinations, kidnappings, you name it. Everything is fair game with us. You might think of us as a cross of the Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves Guild, though not nearly as well known."

Galthar had caught my interest now. This group he spoke of sounded perfect for me, and I very much wanted to know more.

"So you're saying I'll be getting paid to steal and kill?" I asked.

"Sound too good to be true? Believe me, it's not. The Serpents would be perfect for someone like you. I can sense much potential and talent hidden within you, and you would be a most valuable member to us," Galthar said. The Altmer spoke with much arrogance, and his voice was very smug, but his offer was becoming much too sweet to turn down. I was definitely yearning for some change in my life, and the Crimson Serpents sounded like just the thing I needed.

"Can I ask you something first Galthar?"

"Certainly."

"Are there any Orcs in the Crimson Serpents?"

Galthar laughed, "Oh goodness no, dear boy! I would never let any of those vile savages join the ranks of the Serpents!" the High Elf boasted.

_I like this guy already_.

"So you hate them as much as I do?" I asked as I finished my whiskey.

"I assure you, had you have been an Orc that tried to rob me, I would be dragging your corpse to throw in the river instead of conversing with you here!" Galthar answered.

There was silence for a brief moment before I spoke again.

"Was that amulet dangling from your pocket on purpose?"

Galthar smirked, "A most astute observation Sargoth. I saw your potential the moment I laid eyes on you, and I knew you would be after that amulet like a child after a sweetroll. Your technique was quite efficient I must say. But you shift too much of your weight on one leg, which could threaten to give you away. And you removed the amulet much too quickly. You need to pick your target's pocket more gently if you don't wish to get caught like that again. The Muffle spell was most clever. The Crimson Serpents will teach you how to improve your already impressive skills, and so much more."

Galthar's words sank into the back of my mind, and I was amazed that he noticed so much about me despite having only known me for about an hour.

"So….you accept my offer?" Galthar asked with anticipation.

I thought about everything for a moment longer before coming to a decision.

"All right, I'll come with you."

The Altmer snickered, "Splendid. Meet me at the stables tomorrow morning. We leave at daybreak," Galthar set some gold on the table to pay for his drink, and he then left the Inn.

I struggled to sleep that night. My nerves were as restless as a fierce hurricane, but I was also filled with great excitement. Skingrad was kind to me, but I felt deep in my heart that it was time to move on. I was still barely a teenager, and this was the time to get out and see the world, meet new people, and create long lasting memories. Galthar's words echoed through my head that whole night, and I knew that I was making the right choice. This was the perfect opportunity to hone my skills in doing what I loved, and I would have been a fool to pass this by.

Dawn finally arrived, and I packed everything I thought I would need into my bag and left the West Weald Inn for the final time. I watched the rising sun as it shone away the darkness from the sky, and I could hear the sound of woodpeckers hammering their beaks into the trees. I pushed open the mighty gates of Skingrad and walked to the stables as the crisp morning air brushed against my face. Galthar was waiting for me as promised, and we both mounted our horses.

I took one last look at Skingrad before we departed. The sun was reflecting off the tall steeple of the chapel. I knew I was once again leaving behind a life I had become familiar with, and I was throwing myself at the world's mercy as I undertook this new experience. Galthar told me that the journey would be long. We were going all the way to the other side of Cyrodiil close to the Jerall Mountains at the border of Skyrim. After saying goodbye to the city that served as my home for two years, I spurred my horse forward. I followed Galthar as we began to ride northward into the woods, toward what would hopefully be the change that I longed for in my life.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'll admit I had slight writer's block with this one, but fortunately I was able to finish and the chapter is presentable enough I think. Thank you to everyone who's been reading so far, and as always I would love to hear your thoughts.**


	13. Welcome Home

A fell and harsh wind blew against my face as I awoke that morning on the nineteenth of Hearthfire. Opening my eyes, I could make out the sky which was glowing a slight amber color as the sun struggled to rise and disperse the dark clouds that loomed above, covering the land in a depressing shadow like a wide blanket that seemed to shroud the heavens themselves. The first days of autumn were fast approaching, but the weather felt like it was skipping straight past it and leading right into winter. I could already see small particles of blue and white frost beginning to form on the red, crinkled leaves. I looked over to see Galthar still tending to our campfire. I figured he must have kept it going all night.

As I began to walk to the fire, I struggled against my aching muscles that felt like somebody had plunged a thousand arrows into them. The frigid breeze had made them stiff as a board, and I could see spots on my skin that had turned a blueish hue and were numb from the relentless cold. It felt like every step I took was draining every ounce of energy my body had, and I had to muster all my strength to keep from plummeting back to the ground and falling into another restless sleep. The only good thing that morning was the aroma that greeted my nose, and I could see that Galthar was making a hot breakfast in a pot over the campfire.

"Sleep well?" the Altmer asked as he rubbed his chest. He was also struggling to keep warm.

"Oh yeah, like a fucking baby," I replied sarcastically.

Galthar gave a slight chuckle, "It's a wonder we haven't froze to death yet. It's unusual for the weather to be so cold this early, but then again we are in the northernmost part of Cyrodiil. This part of the country is much colder than the rest, as the winds of Skyrim blow quite frequently through here. We should move quickly, lest we find ourselves encased in blocks of ice," Galthar smirked.

"Any idea how long it's been since we left Skingrad?" I asked, still trying to warm myself up.

"I'd guess close to a month. I lost count after two weeks though to be entirely truthful," the High Elf answered, "I want to be up and moving within the hour. Eat up and then get yourself ready, our destination is less than two days ride ahead of us," Galthar stood up and began packing our supplies.

I made my way over to the steaming pot and poured some of the hot stew into a bowl. I brought the spoon to my frozen lips, and I could already feel my body beginning to warm up slightly as the stew slid down my throat. I could see my breath in the air with every exhale, and my body was shivering violently in a desperate attempt to ward off the cold which only seemed to be growing fiercer with every passing second. After quickly devouring my breakfast, I grabbed my bow and bag and slung them both over my shoulder. Galthar mounted his horse, and after putting out the campfire I followed suit. We galloped away quickly from the spot, hoping that the sprint of the horses would be enough to warm us up.

* * *

I could see my surroundings beginning to brighten as the sun arose to overtake the clouds in the sky above. I looked ahead at the shadows dancing along the cold ground as the branches of the trees around us were swaying with the chilling breeze. I could see several flocks of birds flying away from their nests, probably in an attempt to find someplace warmer. Several herds of elk were roaming the area; their monstrous footprints deeply imprinted into the white, frigid ground. Best of all however, I could feel the air beginning to warm up, and combined with the speed of my horse, I no longer felt like I was going to completely freeze to death. I could hear the crunch of the fallen leaves under the hooves of our horses as we swiftly traversed the path that lay before us. I couldn't wait to reach wherever it was we were going. I had had just about enough of the cold, and my bones felt like they were made of a delicate glass; ready to shatter at any moment into a million tiny pieces inside me.

Galthar and I slowed our horses to a trot, and the Altmer began to speak.

"So, how did you come to Skingrad anyway, Sargoth? Have you always lived there?" Galthar asked.

"Nah. I was raised in Bravil for most of my life. My mother raised me by herself. She died when I was seventeen, and I left shortly after."

"You have my most sincere condolences, my Dunmer friend," Galthar's voice still had that arrogant touch to it, but I guess that's just typical for most Altmer. He sounded understanding enough though.

"I felt like my entire life was over at that point. I left my hometown with absolutely no direction in my life. I had no clue as to where I was going to go or what I was going to do. I just kept riding and riding every day, hoping that I would find some purpose to my life. Anything at all would have been better than that shit pile that is the city of Bravil," I confided to Galthar.

"I can't say that what we do is exactly noble, but the Crimson Serpents will give you purpose, and so much more. You will have a home, you will have money, and you will have a living. But most of all, you will have a family. You will be surrounded by individuals just like you, who have been thrown to the gutter and shunned by the rest of the world that refuses to recognize their talents. Rebels, outcasts, misfits, these people found acceptance with the Crimson Serpents where they could not anywhere else, and I know they will also accept you with open arms. We are brothers and sisters, bound in loyalty to each other."

As Galthar's words passed through my troubled mind, I grew even more and more excited to finish our journey and meet my new family. I knew for certain at that point that I had made the right decision, and in that moment I felt peace beginning to fill my heart. A peace that I had not felt in countless years. A radiant, soothing peace that felt like a warm fire burning inside a hearth in the middle of a cheerful tavern. A peace that I could feel beginning to comfort my weary bones and muscles, and I suddenly felt a burst of energy within me. There was a brief moment of silence between the two of us until I spoke up again.

"There was this Orc called Ghorzag, who used to beat me up and torment me almost daily when I was growing up," I said as our horses began to quicken their pace once again.

"Hmph, typical Orc. They'll never miss a chance to hide their inferiority by harassing anyone unlucky enough to cross paths with them. I would expect no more from those drooling monsters," replied Galthar.

I smirked at his comment, "He was much larger than me, and I was virtually defenseless against his merciless beatings. He made me feel like I was in Oblivion itself; some days I actually wished I was," I felt myself cringing as the countless painful memories of Ghorzag began to replay within my mind.

"I presume you dealt with him?" asked Galthar.

"You bet I did," I smiled, "Ghorzag took me by surprise when I was hunting in the woods. I was able to fight back, and I was even winning, but he eventually stabbed me right through the leg with a hidden dagger. I knew in that moment that Ghorzag was going to kill me. I knew I was staring death in the face."

Galthar sighed in disgust, "It almost offends me how Orcs ramble endlessly about "honor and pride", but as soon as they know they've been bested at something, they won't hesitate to resort to cheating."

I nodded in agreement, "I was laying there like a helpless, scared little dog just waiting for him to deliver the finishing blow. He began to taunt me, and it was then he made the fatal mistake of making a sexual remark about my mother," The Orc's voice was echoing through my head as I spoke, and I felt a hint of the fury that raged within me that fateful day, "I ignored every ounce of pain I had; the anger that burned within me was more ferocious than the deadliest inferno. I easily overpowered Ghorzag, and he was dead by my hand within minutes. I burnt his body until it was nothing but ashes. I made sure there was nothing left of that wretched, disgusting…thing," I finished.

Galthar gave me what looked to be a smile of approval, "You did the right thing Sargoth. The world will not mourn his passing, and thanks to you, that is now one less of those vicious brutes that can roam free and bring misery and suffering to others. You did right in killing that Orc. And speaking of killing Orcs, look. Down there," Galthar said as we stopped our horses atop a large hill. He was pointing to the horizon.

"What is it?" I asked. I squinted my eyes to get a better view.

"An Orc stronghold," the Altmer replied.

The sun was shining in my eyes slightly and made it difficult to see, but I was eventually able to make out the stronghold Galthar spoke of. It looked like a tiny speck in the distance from where our horses stood. We made our way forward again until the stronghold was in clear view, and then we dismounted and tied up our horses to a tree that stood nearby.

I could see the shapes of several Orcs standing in wooden guard towers that overlooked the gate that served as the main entrance. Two Orcs clad in steel armor were posted right outside the gate, most likely to prevent any outsiders like us from gaining entry. A large wall made entirely of wood surrounded the stronghold, and it stood several feet high. I could see even more Orcs standing along the wall that were patrolling the area. I could hear the sound of their armor clanking as they walked even from where we were. Just looking at this place was sending me into a steaming rage, and I could feel a bloodlust beginning to take hold over me like a sabre cat taking hold of its defenceless prey. Galthar and I looked at each other, and I knew that he was thinking the exact same thing I was.

"Care to do some racial cleansing?" the High Elf sneered.

I nodded my head, and we both made our way closer to the small settlement before hiding behind a boulder. Galthar began keenly surveying the stronghold. He was trying to pinpoint exactly how many Orcs we were up against, and also if there were any weaknesses in the walls that we could exploit. He turned to me after a moment.

"I'm going to guess there's more than ten, but less than fifteen. They look intimidating, but almost all Orcs are close-range fighters. If you can get them from a distance, they'll drop like sacks of flour. We also have the element of surprise, and hopefully we'll be able to kill a few of them before they even realize we're here," Galthar explained to me. He then raised both his hands, and I saw two red balls of energy charging in them, "Watch this."

Galthar fired his magic at both the Orcs standing beside the gate, and I waited with much anticipation at what was going to happen. I then saw both the brutish Orcs unsheathe their hulking swords and they began attacking each other almost mindlessly. Blood could be seen spewing from both the Orcs, and their loud, vicious grunts of pain could be heard clearly from where we sat watching. I had to put my hand over my mouth to keep myself from laughing, and I could see Galthar chuckling as well. A sneer of satisfaction swept across the High Elf's face as his long silver hair blew behind his head. The Orcs hacked and slashed at each other for a few more moments until both of them dropped to the ground and died of the wounds they had inflicted upon each other. I was amazed, and amused at what just happened.

"By Stendarr, what was that?" I whispered.

"That, my friend, was a Frenzy spell," Galthar answered, "All but the most powerful creatures who are hit by it will lose all rational thought and will attack absolutely anyone or anything in sight. Quite useful when you find yourself outnumbered, like we are now."

"I am _so _learning that," was all I said. I could then see the gates to the stronghold open, and two more angry Orcs ran outside with their axes in hand.

"Malacath's mercy! Who did this?!" I could hear one of them shout. I was a bit intimidated by the size of their monstrous axes. They looked like they could slice a giant in half with just one swift strike. I showed no fear however, as I realized that Galthar was probably using this moment to test me and see how I managed in combat. I was not going to disappoint him now.

I slowly drew my bow from my shoulder, and I readied two arrows at once. I noticed that the wind had picked up, and I was going to have to adjust my aim accordingly and compensate for it. My jet black hair blew into my focused eyes as I lined up both arrows, and my heart was beating faster than a hundred galloping horses. I held for just a few seconds longer as my bowstring began to dig into my fingers, and I then released my arrows. I watched as the arrows took to the sky and glided elegantly and gracefully through the air like a hawk chasing after its prey. The arrows hit both the Orcs square in the neck, and I could feel the adrenaline surge through me as I watched them drop dead to the ground.

"Excellent shot. We must have their attention now. Brace yourself," Galthar said as he drew his sword that looked like it could have come straight from Oblivion itself. The hilt was completely black with several rubies crafted into it. The blade was just as black, and it radiated an ominous aura of death and fear. I could see Daedric runes of a blood red color inscribed into the blade. I had never seen a weapon as fearsome or evil as that; I certainly wouldn't have wanted to find myself on the wrong end of it.

Several Orcs were charging out of the stronghold and towards us, and I could feel my heart pounding violently against my chest as I held my daggers in my hand. I knew that I was unarmoured, so I was going to have to be quick and make myself difficult to hit. I knew that I would not survive even one blow from their monstrous weapons. The Orcs let out a violent battle cry that shook the sky itself, and I could hear the loud clanking of their armor as they drew closer. Closer. Closer. The sound of their footsteps pounded against my head, and I felt like my brain was about to explode within my skull right then and there. Sweat was pouring down me like a rapid stream rushing down a mountain.

I could finally see the heads of two Orcs over the boulder, and it was then I sprang to my feet and planted both my daggers into their throats. As I removed my daggers from the Orcs, their blood squirted onto my face, and I spread it across my skin like war-paint. I looked over at Galthar and saw three decapitated corpses lying in front of him; a river of blood flowing onto the ground beneath our feet. The Altmer was spinning his Daedric sword in his hand; I think he saw this more as a game than a fight.

"Time to move in," Galthar began, "We must tread carefully. Their leader is a former legionnaire named Molgroth gro-Amaloch. He's a berserker and he fights like a madman. He was actually kicked out of the Legion for killing one of his own men by mistake. He'll swipe your head clean off if you drop your guard. Let's go."

We dashed into the stronghold, and a line of Orcs with their weapons at the ready were there to greet us.

"Wait, it's just two measly little elves we're up against?! Ha! This should be fun!" one of the Orcs boasted.

Galthar responded by firing his Frenzy spell at her, and she then proceeded to attack her comrades. She managed to kill one before the rest of them put her down.

"Enough of this! Kill them now!" another one shouted, and with that the group ferociously charged at us.

I saw Galthar shoot a burst of lightning from his left hand which sent another Orc tumbling dead to the ground. He then cast another spell, and the fallen Orc began to slowly rise from the ground. The resurrected Orc, who was now completely under Galthar's control, took his blade and began attacking his former companions who stood in utter disbelief at what they were seeing.

While the rest of the group was distracted by their undead former comrade who was now little more than a puppet, I saw an opportunity and plunged my dagger right into the back of one of the Orcs. I took his Dwarven sword as I figured that would be more helpful to me than my daggers. There were now only two Orcs remaining, and they had just killed the one that Galthar resurrected. I could see the fright in their eyes, but the Code of Malacath forbids any Orc from surrendering in battle.

One of the remaining Orcs charged at me; swinging her massive blade towards my head. I swiftly jumped from the sword's path, and my ears were met with a sharp clanging sound as her sword struck the ground. I could hear her grunting in frustration.

"Malacath will have his revenge for this!" the female Orc barked as she swung at me again. I held my blade firmly in my hands, and the steel of our weapons clashed and locked together.

Sweat was pouring through the fabrics of my shirt as I struggled to push away the hulking Orc before me with my blade. My feet were shaking as she pushed her blade against mine. Our eyes were burning like dragon fire; time itself seemed to slow down as my red eyes gazed into her brown ones, staring deep into each other's souls with intense rage and hatred. Her strength eventually overpowered mine, and she was able to shove me back several feet.

She swung at me once more, but I was able to regain my footing just in time and leap out of the way. Dodging her vicious strike threw off her momentum, and she staggered as she struggled to regain her stance. Seizing my advantage, I kicked her sword straight out of her arm, and I then grabbed her by the neck and shoved my sword through her mouth.

My sword was impaled deep into the Orc; the tip could be seen sticking out the other side of her head. A waterfall of blood was pouring out from her as she choked on my blade for several seconds. I removed the sword from her mouth and kicked her limp corpse to the ground. I looked over to see Galthar who not only killed, but utterly disemboweled his opponent. His blade was drenched in blood, and a stench began to fill the air as the Orc's entrails lay splattered on the ground.

"Time for the big bear to come out of his cave," the Altmer said.

No sooner had Galthar made that comment; I saw the door to the Chief's longhouse burst open and fly right off the very hinges holding it in place. An enormous Orc emerged and slowly stepped toward us. The ground shook like thunder with every menacing step he took; small pebbles of dirt scattered in the air around him every time his feet made contact with the ground. He wore jet black ebony armor covering his entire body, and his face was decorated with black and white war-paint resembling a skull. I could see his eyes burning with a fury that made my skin crawl as I looked into them. I assumed this had to be Molgroth. The sheer size of this Orc was unbelievable; he made Ghorzag look like a skeever. He stopped in front of Galthar and I; the world itself seemed to quake in fear at his presence.

"You should never have come here," the Orc Chieftain began, "You slaughtered my tribe, and now I will show you what happens to enemies of Malacath. By the will of my ancestors, I will paint the ground red with your blood. With the strength of Malacath, I will avenge my fallen comrades," Molgroth finished, and he then drew two massive claymores that were bigger than me. He easily held them in each of his hands, and I shuddered when I saw what the monstrous blades were made of: dragon bones.

"Don't let him scare you. Let him tire himself out," I heard Galthar say to me, trying to ease my fear.

Molgroth bellowed an ear-splitting battle cry, and he then charged at us with the ferocity of a giant.

I held my sword high in the air as I stood fast and braced myself for his attack. The force of his massive swing was greater than even the most violent of winds, and I was sent flying through the air as one of his claymores made contact with my blade. I saw Galthar jump into the fray; his Daedric blade blocking the vicious strikes of the Orc Chief. He was swiftly leaping and dodging Molgroth's attacks, and after regaining my composure I charged the hulking Orc.

I was struggling to hold a firm stance. The recoil from Molgroth's attacks sent a sharp pain through my body, like the Divines themselves were crushing me with a massive hammer. I unleashed my Flame spell from my left hand, but that was all but useless against the strength of his ebony armor. Galthar came from behind and went to attack his backside, but Molgroth saw him and hit the Altmer in the face with the hilt of his claymore. I jumped on the Orc's back, and I managed to drive my sword through his left shoulder.

The Orc gave a shrill cry of pain as his sword fell from his hand and he dropped to his knee. I struck his temple several times with the hilt of my sword, but he elbowed me in the face and I was sent tumbling to the ground. Galthar got back up and re-engaged Molgroth who was now wielding only one sword.

Galthar and I stood at opposite ends of Molgroth, but he was easily blocking our swift strikes. I could feel myself growing increasingly fatigued, and Molgroth didn't even look like he was breaking a sweat. I was beginning to think we bit off more than we could chew. Molgroth would knock us down, we would get back up and attack him again and that cycle would repeat itself. It seemed like this Orc had an unlimited reserve of energy.

Galthar resurrected another of the fallen Orcs, and while Molgroth made short work of it, I took the opportunity and planted my sword through his right leg. Galthar came around to the front of him and drove his own sword through the Orc Chief's chest. Molgroth was screaming in pain as he dropped to the ground, and I was certain that we had defeated him at that point.

Molgroth was panting heavily; clutching his bleeding chest with his hand. I expected him to fall over and die, but he merely smiled as he gave us another deathly glare.

"Don't think you've beaten me so easily," the Orc said.

Molgroth's body then began to contort violently; I could see fur beginning to grow from his skin. His bones made a sickening cracking sound as his muscles and limbs shifted before my eyes. His body was growing at least twice its normal size, and he was now almost entirely covered by a thick, black pelt. I watched in horror as pointed ears and a huge muzzle began to emerge from Molgroth's head. As this unexpected transformation finished, the fearsome beast that now stood before us let out a deep, chilling howl that echoed for miles throughout the sky. I stood in disbelief at what I was seeing: Molgroth was a werewolf; his eyes were as black as the void itself.

Molgroth sprinted at me on all fours and leaped ferociously at me; extending his razor sharp claws forward. I desperately jumped out of the way, but not before the wolf tore a large gash through my leg. As it rushed toward me to devour me whole, Galthar came from behind and slashed the beast in the back. The werewolf howled in pain and knocked the Altmer back with a mighty swing of his claw. I drew my bow and fired an arrow at the beast, but it merely deflected off Molgroth's hide. With another fierce roar, the wolf leapt at me again. I dodged my way around him, and I managed to make an incision across the right side of his abdomen.

I looked around me at the scattered weapons of the dead Orcs surrounding us, and I noticed a shining silver sword lying among the mess. I had heard a few legends of the mighty werewolves, and I knew that silver was their deadliest weakness. If I could just get to that sword, I knew we would stand a chance of killing Molgroth.

The wolf was standing directly between me and the sword however, and to risk retrieving it would surely have been suicide. Galthar charged up two ice spikes in his hands and launched them at Molgroth. He let out an angry howl and ran toward the High Elf in retaliation. Now that the coast was clear, I dashed as quickly as my legs would carry me and grabbed the silver weapon from the grasp of its dead owner.

With Molgroth still distracted by Galthar, I sprinted toward him and firmly plunged the sword into the wolf's back. Molgroth let out a sharp yelp of pain and knocked me back with a swift strike of his arm. Galthar saw his chance and unleashed a mighty torrent of lightning from both his hands at the weakened werewolf. I got back up and plunged my sword into the wolf once more. I watched as he desperately tried to stop the rush of blood seeping through his fur. A few seconds later, the wolf began to shift back to his normal form and collapsed to the ground, clinging to his life as he drew his final breaths.

Galthar and I stood above the dying Orc Chieftain, and I felt pride coursing through me at our victory. Molgroth began to utter his last words.

"On this day….I join my ancestors in Aetherius."

Galthar sneered, "Afraid not," the Altmer then pulled a stone from his pocket, a stone I instantly recognized to be a black soul gem. He raised his sword, and with one devastating blow, the Orc Chieftain's head was rolling from his shoulders.

Galthar held his arm forward, holding the soul gem as a dark, purple wave of energy rushed into the evil stone. I knew that he had just absorbed Molgroth's soul. Wherever the Orc was now, I was sure it could not have been pleasant. He recharged his blade with the captured soul before sheathing it.

I looked around at the carnage that surrounded us. Blood continued to pour from the Orcs we had just slaughtered. I saw Galthar beginning to loot the corpses and I followed his lead. After helping myself to some gold and a couple potions, Galthar and I headed back out of the stronghold and made our way to our horses.

"This'll be a good night for the crows," I said to Galthar as we came to the horses.

"I heartily agree, my friend. I must say, you handled yourself valiantly back there. I know for certain now that you shall be a fine addition to the Crimson Serpents," the Altmer complimented me. I felt my stomach fluttering with warmth, "Come, if we ride swiftly we can reach our destination by tomorrow afternoon."

* * *

We mounted our horses and galloped away from the bloodbath. We rode further north toward the sun that was still shining bright in the sky. I could still feel the sharp, stinging sensation of the wounds that Molgroth inflicted on me. They felt like somebody had taken several sharp needles and were slowly digging them into my skin. I reached into my bag and pulled out a red vial that contained a healing potion, and I brought it to my lips. I could almost immediately feel my pain subsiding as I swallowed the liquid; all the bleeding had stopped and I could feel my wounds beginning to dissipate as they rapidly closed.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. The climate grew even colder as we rode further northward. As dusk approached, Galthar and I stopped at a clear spot beneath the mountains and set up camp. I got a campfire going with my Flame spell, and I took some food out of my bag and began to roast it as the fire grew higher. There was not a single sound stirring that calm night save for the distant chirping of crickets, and the crackling and snapping sound of the warm campfire.

"Tell me about your sword Galthar. I've never seen a weapon like that before," I said to the Elf with eager curiosity.

"It's called Necrosanctus. It is said to have been crafted by the Mythic Dawn long ago, and imbued with the dark power of Mehrunes Dagon himself," Galthar began to explain, "I found it many years back when I explored one of their old, forsaken lairs. As you have seen for yourself, it possesses the Soul Trap enchantment, but it also has the ability to drain the life force of the wielder's opponents and add it to his own strength," Galthar unsheathed the unholy blade and handed it to me to take a closer look. I gazed at the blade in awe for several moments before handing it back to Galthar.

After finishing my dinner I made my way over to my bedroll as I felt fatigue overtaking me. The sound of the fire was soothing as I lay my head against the grass, and within a matter of minutes I felt myself slipping away into my dream world that I so loved.

I awoke the next morning to Galthar's boot gently thumping my side.

"Time for us to depart. Our journey is nearing its end and I'd like to get there by the afternoon," the Altmer said as I yawned and stretched my arms.

I rose to my feet quickly, and immediately the two of us mounted our horses and began riding once more. I grabbed an apple from my bag and began to eat it as we rode.

There was a slight haze of fog that morning; the sun was still resting far beyond the mountains and my vision was slightly obscured. I could see small drifts of snow blowing from the ground ahead of us, and I knew that we were very far to the north of Cyrodiil. This was not at all anything like the climate to which I was accustomed to. Bravil was far to the south of the country along the river. There was a fair amount of snow in the winter time, but it was nowhere close to what I was seeing now. Most of the year the weather was warm and temperate, but up here it seemed like it was in a state of permanent winter. Everywhere I looked was almost completely draped in white; devoid of any other color. As I saw the city of Bruma in the distance, I thought to myself how anybody could possibly live in such fierce and endless cold. I could see Cloud Ruler Temple, the ancient fortress of the Blades sitting atop the mountains which were now staring down at me as we drew closer to them.

To be so close to the Jerall Mountains was quite fascinating. When I was a child I could always see them sitting far ahead on the horizon, but I never imagined I would ever get close enough to them that I could touch them. The sun was beginning to rise and I could see the crystal clear snow glistening in the shining light. Our course took us northwest away from Bruma, and we rode into another forest that stretched for several miles.

Snow was falling from the looming branches and into my hair as we made our way through the snow covered trees. The footprints of our horses were deeply imprinted into the ground. I was anxious to get out of this cold and inside somewhere warm. We continued to ride for what seemed like hours until Galthar finally brought his steed to a halt.

"Over there," he said as he pointed ahead in the distance.

I stopped beside him and saw a massive fortress standing proud amongst the swaying trees. It had several towers reaching high to the clouds, and I could make out just a couple of the stones as most of the mighty structure was also covered by the snow that blew with the raging winter winds.

"This is Fort Blackmoon, the headquarters of the Crimson Serpents. This is where your new life shall begin. You will have everything you need here," Galthar said as I looked at the towering fortress in wonder.

"Come, your brothers and sisters are waiting to meet you," the High Elf spoke again.

I was glad this long, tedious journey had finally reached its end. As much as I enjoyed seeing so much of Cyrodiil, my bones were just near frozen and I longed to sit in front of a warm sparkling fire in a soft chair and chug an entire tankard of mead. I was excited, as well as nervous to finally be meeting my new family members. Would they really accept me so openly? What if they don't like me? What if I don't fit in? I've never fit in with anybody before! Was Galthar telling the truth? Was this really the right thing to do? I realized it didn't matter. I had already made my choice, and I had come too far to change my mind now. To turn back would only end with me freezing to death. Whether I would come to regret my decision or not, this was the path I had now chosen, and I realized that I was going to have to accept the consequences of my choice.

Galthar and I dismounted our horses as my thoughts continued to race through my mind. We brought them to a large barn that stood close to the fortress, and we left them among several other horses that were in there. I counted at least ten horses; they varied greatly in their color and size. I figured that there had to be a decent number of members in the Crimson Serpents if there were this many horses.

Galthar strode confidently in front of me as he led me to the entrance of the fort; our outfits almost completely covered by the white of the falling snow. We passed through a large courtyard where I saw several training dummies as well as a blacksmith's forge and an alchemy station. Galthar continued to lead me forward until we came to the iron gates that served as the entrance to Fort Blackmoon.

"Welcome home," the Altmer said before thrusting open the gates and stepping inside.

I remained outside for several seconds, still plagued by my anxious thoughts. I knew that I would be a fool to turn back however, and I slowly made my way into the dark entrance of the fortress. My thoughts began to fade as I looked around at the place I would now be calling home. I knew at that moment that my new life, wherever it may lead me, was about to begin. I continued to follow Galthar, and I began to brace myself for whatever my fate had in store for me next.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has followed/favorited/reviewed the story so far. Your support is much appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	14. New Family, New Life

Several torches sat upon the walls of the grand entrance to Fort Blackmoon; their glowing embers dancing in the darkness. Two stone staircases stood directly in front of me; both of them were draped with a long, red carpet with black trimmings along the sides. A lone window sat up high on the wall on the left side of the room, where the golden gaze of the afternoon sun could be seen slightly. The air was still chilly, but I could feel my bones beginning to warm as I began to wipe the snow off my clothes and skin. In between the staircases was a long, narrow corridor which looked like it stretched quite far. I stood in the middle of the large room for a few moments, staring in awe at my surroundings. I had never been inside a fort before; I was fascinated by the stone architecture, and I had a feeling that this place was very old. Looking around some more, I noticed a couple racks standing along the walls with all different assortments of weapons. There were several mannequins as well, which were all outfitted with many different types of armor styles.

"Well, what do you think?" Galthar asked me.

"It sure is big," was all I could think of to say that moment. "Any idea how old this place is?"

"Hmm, I would say this fort has stood for at least a millennium," the Altmer answered. "I do know that the original owners were a noble Imperial family that held much political influence within Cyrodiil, and possibly beyond. It was said that one day, one of the sons was turned into a vampire, and he ended up bestowing his vampirism upon his entire family. In order to satiate their endless thirst for blood, they began terrorizing nearby villages. They killed several innocent people while also taking many of them as prisoners, to live out the rest of their days as cattle to the undead family," Galthar told me with an eager tone of voice.

"What happened to them?" I asked.

"Well, obviously something like that was bound to get noticed sooner or later. Widespread panic began to erupt among the settlements, and eventually a reward for their demise was offered. A band of about twenty mercenaries was formed, and one fateful night they stormed this very fort. Most of the mercenaries were killed, in fact only three made it out of here alive. But they were successful, and the entire family was eventually slain and put to rest. It is said that their presence can still be felt within these old walls, although no apparitions of the family have ever been sighted by anyone. Interesting story if I do say so myself," Galthar finished. "But I believe I've rambled long enough. Come, it is time to meet your fellow comrades."

The High Elf led me down the corridor, and I could see several rooms lining the narrow hallway on both sides. Judging from the beds, chests, wardrobes, end tables, and bookshelves that all the rooms contained, I presumed that this was one of the living quarters. The hallway was beginning to feel like a maze. There were several twists and turns that led into more hallways and rooms; I hoped I wouldn't be finding myself getting lost in this place. It was also quite dark, and it gave off a chilling and frightening atmosphere; our footsteps produced a loud echo which vibrated for several seconds with every step we took. As we made our way further in, I could hear the sound of chattering and laughter.

"Figures everybody would be in the bar," Galthar began. "Let's just hope they're sober enough to remember meeting you by tomorrow morning."

I gave a silent chuckle, and we then descended a staircase which led into a room which I figured to be a lounge area. I immediately noticed the bar which stood at the far end of the room. Behind it stood a tall, wooden cabinet with various bottles of alcoholic beverages sitting along the shelves. I could also see a couple large kegs with taps sticking out the front of them. There were several shelves standing around the perimeter of the room, lined with every type of food you could imagine. Small tables were placed along the stone floor, and there was also a large fireplace that stood close to the bar. In front of it were a few leather sofas and chairs. This room had a very cheerful feel to it, and I was already beginning to feel a bit welcome and at home.

Looking to my left, I could see a Nord and a Bosmer seated at a table, engaged in an intense arm-wrestle. Puddles of sweat could be seen dripping from the Bosmer, and the Nord clearly had the upper hand.

"Come on Lorian! Surely you can do better than that!" the Nord with black shoulder length hair boasted.

"No fair Torgron! You're cheating, I can see you holding the table with your other hand!" the struggling Wood Elf complained.

The Nord just laughed, and I could see the looks of strain on both their faces. Their locked arms were shaking as each one struggled to put down the other one. This was clearly a close match; when one of them would come close to winning; the other would suddenly get a boost of energy and raise their arm back up at the last second. Everyone in the room was looking on eagerly, wondering with excitement who was going to win.

The match all of a sudden turned in the Bosmer's favor, and I saw him snickering as the Nord's arm got closer and closer to the table. "I've got you this time, Nord!" the Wood Elf shouted proudly.

Just as he was about to win, the Nord let out a vicious grunt and quickly swung his arm back up, and before anyone could even register what was happening, he slammed the Elf's hand into the table. The Nord laughed in triumph. "Third game in a row you've lost to me, Lorian! Looks like someone owes me six-hundred septims," the Nord gloated.

"Here, hope you choke on it you oaf," the Elf Lorian said as he tossed a coin purse on the table. He was holding his hand in pain from being slammed against the table. "I'll beat you one of these days, Torgron. I swear to you."

"Don't kid yourself milk drinker, I could beat you in my sleep," the Nord Torgron said as he tossed the coin purse in the air repeatedly.

"Don't worry Lorian," a female Bosmer came up to him and kissed him full on the lips. "I know you'll get him someday," she said encouragingly, trying to cheer him up.

"Thank you Ihriel, my love. At least somebody believes in me," said Lorian as he returned her kiss.

Torgron merely smirked. "See this?" he asked, flexing his arm. "Do you know how it got to be so strong?"

"Probably from all the time you spend jacking off," Ihriel quickly retorted. I saw Torgron's face turn twenty different shades of red, and the entire room erupted into laughter.

"You want some ice for that burn, Torgron?" I heard a male Argonian mutter as he continued laughing.

"Shut it Shadow, nobody was talking to you!" Torgron barked, desperately trying to conceal his embarrassment. The laughter continued to roar within the lounge; Galthar and I simply stood at the entrance of the room not saying a word. We were simply watching everyone banter and laugh with each other.

After a moment, Galthar raised his hand, "Silence!" the Altmer's voice was sharp and powerful; echoing all throughout the room, and all noise immediately ceased. He stood mighty and proud amongst his subjects; his presence commanded absolute respect and his figure radiated authority. All eyes were pointed towards him.

"Everybody, I wish for you to meet our newest recruit," the High Elf began as he motioned for me to step forward. "This is Sargoth Drelas. I came across him during my stay in Skingrad, and he has already shown remarkable talent. I expect all of you to make him feel welcome, and to accommodate any needs he may have," Galthar finished speaking, and there was silence in the room for a brief moment. I was worried that they already didn't like me; maybe coming here was a mistake after all.

The Nord who won the arm-wrestling match stood from his chair and made his way toward me. As he came closer, the first thing I noticed about him was the eye-patch covering his right eye. He had a hint of stubble around his jawline, and he wore a long, black leather jacket that was almost touching the floor. I could see a cuirass of chainmail underneath the slightly open coat. He was very tall; I saw that I just barely reached his chest as he stood in front of me.

He extended his hand to me. "Torgron Wolf-Scar. Pleasure to meet you, Sargoth," the Nord said as he towered over me.

"And to you as well, Torgron," I said as I shook his hand. His handshake was very firm, and for a second it felt like he was actually crushing the very bones within my hand.

"Rasha, get Sargoth and I a drink. I think we've earned one after such a long journey," Galthar ordered.

"Comin right up Gal," a female Redguard obeyed. Galthar and I sat down at a table, and the Redguard brought us each a tankard of mead. My body immediately began to feel at ease as the cold beverage passed my lips; the tension that was burning within my muscles like an open flame was now beginning to soothe gradually. That was honestly the most refreshing drink I had had my entire life at that point.

The male Bosmer whom Torgron had defeated was the next to introduce himself. "I'm Lorian," the blond-haired Wood Elf said as we proceeded to shake hands, "and this is my girlfriend Ihriel." She stepped beside Lorian, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder as she gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Pleasure to meet you Sargoth," Ihriel said as she smiled at me; her reddish wavy hair was shimmering brightly from the light of the torches.

The Argonian came forward next. "Greetings Sargoth, I am Stalks-The-Shadows, although everyone just calls me Shadow. Welcome to the Crimson Serpents," the Argonian said, and I shook his scaly hand. The lizard's skin was mostly a burgundy color, but there were several black spots on him, especially around his eyes. He wore a blackish-grey suit of leather armor, and I could see a black cloak fastened around his collar.

"I am the expert of this group when it comes to thievery and stealth. My name should speak for itself, really," Shadow explained. "Anything you need to know about stealing, lockpicks, pickpocketing, or sneaking your way through a house undetected, I'm the guy you wanna talk to."

"It's true," Rasha spoke up. "Damn lizard stole my best pair of gloves the other day," the Redguard woman said with a half amused tone of voice.

"Dear Rasha, how many times have I warned you about leaving your things sitting on the edge of your bed in plain sight?" Shadow asked condescendingly. "I was merely teaching you the importance of keeping your valuables safely locked away. I hope it is a lesson I will not have to teach you again." Rasha merely grunted at Shadow's words.

I continued to sip away at my mead, and two more men entered the room. I saw that one was an Imperial, the other a Breton.

"Ahh, there you two are!" Torgron said. "You're just in time to meet our newest recruit. Sargoth, this is Cendaeus," he pointed to the Imperial, "and Soren," pointing to the Breton.

"Nice to meet you Sargoth," the Imperial Cendaeus said. He had short hair that was a light brown color. He was just a couple inches taller than me.

"I hope we haven't scared you off yet, my Dunmer friend," the Breton Soren joked as he sat down at our table. His face was pale, and his eyes were a bright hazel color. He had black, medium length hair that went just above his shoulders. I suspected that from the light blue robes that he wore that he was a mage. "Though I think Torgron is the only one here you need to be scared of," the Breton joked again as he brought a tankard to his lips.

"Real nice, Soren. Make fun of the guy who's only got one eye," Torgron retorted snidely. "Just remember, I'm still twice your size and could easily break one of these tables over your back," the Nord said jokingly.

"Oh Torgron, we both know you would never get anywhere close to me to even be able to do that. I would simply cast my Invisibility spell while you searched uselessly for me like a hungry cat. I'd knock you right off your feet before you even knew what hit you," Soren replied. "It also doesn't help that you can't sneak to save your life."

Everyone else laughed, and even Torgron nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, it's true unfortunately," Torgron replied. "But I really have no use for sneaking and skulking in the shadows. I prefer my confrontations to be much more up close and personal. As the enforcer of the group, sneaking just doesn't really suit me."

"Enforcer?" I inquired, raising my eyebrow in curiosity.

"Enforcer, intimidator, whatever you wanna call it," Torgron took a sip of his drink. "Basically, if anybody falls out of line, it's my job to put em back in line. Whether it's one of our clients who decides he doesn't wanna pay us for a contract, or someone holding vital information from us, or even one of our own members who thinks he's above the rules and doesn't have to follow them. I set them straight, even if my weapons have to do some of the talking," Torgron said with pride in his voice.

"Don't worry Sargoth, his bark is really worse than his bite," Soren remarked.

"Soren, I am _this_ close to using you to demonstrate to Sargoth exactly what I mean," Torgron said somewhat annoyed, but eventually both men just began laughing with each other. I could tell just from the way they talked and the way they threw playful insults at each other that Soren and Torgron were close friends. The members of the Crimson Serpents I had met so far were much more kind and light-hearted than I was initially expecting. They seemed like a real family who deeply and genuinely respected and cared for each other. I was glad that they had accepted me so quickly, and I was eager to learn more about each of them.

"So you're a mage, Soren?" I asked the Breton in curiosity.

"Indeed I am!" Soren answered eagerly. "I was quite a prodigy as well. I summoned my first flame atronach when I was four, and crafted my first spell when I was six."

I was quite impressed. "Were you ever part of the Mages Guild?" I asked.

"I was for two months. I ended up getting expelled for accidentally setting the Arch-Mage's research notes on fire," Soren explained, and we both chuckled. "I didn't give a skeever's ass about that place though. I had already surpassed all the instructors by that time, and their lessons were rather monotonous and boring. I found I much preferred studying alone and discovering my own theories and methods of how to better my skill," Soren told me.

"You should see Soren and Torgron fight together," Galthar spoke up for the first time in a while. "I am not easily impressed, but those two together are a force to be reckoned with. Torgron will charge the enemy directly with his axe, while Soren supports him from behind with his magic."

Torgron chuckled, "Yep, ain't nothin that can get past Soren and me! Whether it's guards, bandits, trolls, wolves, or even giants! We take down anything stupid enough to mess with us!" Torgron gave Soren a hard pat on the back.

Everyone was laughing and enjoying each other's company. With every second that passed, I was feeling more at home. Inside me, I was feeling something I had never felt before. For the very first time in my life, I actually felt like I was fitting in; like I belonged. I felt an acceptance with them like I had never felt with anybody else before. Back home in Bravil when I was a child, the few times I did try to play with the other children and join in on their games, they simply shunned me and teased me about my race. They refused to accept my company because I was of lower social status than they were. I was the reject, the loner, the black sheep in the herd. But with the Crimson Serpents, they did not judge me on any of those things; they accepted me just for who I was. They didn't care about things like my race, or where I came from, or how rich or poor I may have been. To them, I was their brother, their friend. I was a family member, and I was valued and treated as an equal just like everyone else there. As I got to know them more, I realized that they were indeed just like me. They were people who had been rejected by society just as I was; who struggled to find acceptance, who struggled to live a normal life because of unfortunate circumstances. I took great comfort in the fact that these people all felt similar to me; that they knew my pain, and they were just as disillusioned with the world as I was. I was happy that I was no longer alone in the dark tunnel that was my life. I finally had like-minded companions who would help guide me toward the light.

I reveled in the happiness and joy that was flowing throughout the room; my heart and soul had a content feeling that had not been felt in a long time too far away to remember. I was so glad that they all had taken such a liking to me so quickly, and I to them. But I had no idea that moment, that I was about to meet the person who would become the greatest friend to ever grace my life.

As we continued to relax in the lounge and banter amongst one another, I could hear footsteps approaching into the lounge. I turned my head to see a fellow Dark Elf standing in the doorway; his eyes a burning crimson red like mine. His hair was slightly disheveled and somewhat long, but not near as long as mine. His skin had a light bluish-green hue, whereas mine was greyer but still with a bit of green pigment left to it.

"What's all the ruckus in here?" the Dunmer asked. "You guys start a party without me again?" the others laughed for a moment.

"Ah, Valryn, perfect timing!" Galthar said. "This is the newest member to the family. Sargoth Drelas, meet Valryn Sarenthis." I stood up and shook the Dark Elf's hand.

"Nice to see I won't be the only Dunmer among this pack of misfits anymore," Valryn said, and we both shared a chuckle. "Honored to meet you, Sargoth."

"The honor is mine, Valryn," I said, also glad I wasn't the only one of my kind there.

"I know you and Valryn are going to get along wonderfully," Galthar remarked. "He is also a talented larcenist, and he is a capable fighter like you."

"When he's not thinking with his dick, that is," Ihriel quipped.

"Now Ihriel, there's no need for that kind of talk. You know that the contract always comes before my….carnal needs," Valryn responded to the Bosmer woman in defence.

"Oh give me a break Sarenthis! Remember that mansion we broke into last month? I gave you one job, _one_ job! To keep a lookout while I robbed the safe, and what happened? I open the bedroom to find you in bed with the owner's wife!" Ihriel was trying to sound angry, but she couldn't help but laugh as she spoke.

"What can I say?" Valryn spoke again. "She was lonely, and she had the finest bosom on her you had ever seen," the Dunmer gloated, and Ihriel just slapped her forehead with her hand. "Not to mention, she promised not to call the guards if I'd sleep with her. It was a win-win really."

"Okay, I'll admit, that did help us," Ihriel relented.

"Damn right it did," Valryn smirked. He then sat next to me at the table, and Rasha brought him a tankard of ale.

And that was how I met the man who would become my best friend and closest ally. The man with whom I would go on almost every job with. The man whom I would become inseparable from. The man with whom I faced countless dangers and perils of the world together with, and would get each other out of the absolute worst situations and always emerge with a smile and a laugh at the end. Valryn and I developed a friendship so close that not even the Divines themselves could come between it, and I know that both our lives changed that day we met, and we would continue to change each other's lives throughout the years.

The chatter died down for a second until I spoke up again. "Is this everybody?"

It was Shadow who answered. "This is most of us, but not everyone. They're probably off by themselves in the fort somewhere. I'm sure you'll meet them soon enough," the Argonian said.

"You are free to explore the fort as you please, Sargoth. The entire place is open to you," Galthar said to me.

"Anyplace I can practice some archery?" I asked.

"Take a right in the hallway and go down the first set of stairs to your left, you can't miss it," Rasha answered me.

"Thank you, everyone. I can't tell you how thankful I am that you have accepted me so openly. I am honored to be part of this group, and I hope that I prove myself worthy in the days to come," I told them all.

"To our newest brother!" Valryn shouted with glee as he raised his mug in the air.

"Aye! I'll second that!" Torgron followed suit. "You're one of us now. May Talos have mercy on your soul."

Everyone else laughed as they raised their mugs in unison, and I gave them all a slight bow before I left the room. I followed Rasha's directions and I descended a staircase and found myself in a large, circular room. There were more racks standing around that had weapons hanging off them, as well as more mannequins wearing suits of armor. There were several training dummies, most of them covered in gashes and slice marks from what I figured was years of everybody practicing their swordplay on them. There were also targets standing around the edge of the room, almost all of them were filled with holes, and some of them even still had arrows left in them. I began to look for a good spot to practice, and it was then that I noticed someone else, a woman, was already down there practicing with her bow. I saw that she was using an ordinary steel bow. She was wearing a brown undershirt which accentuated her slender figure, and she also had a quiver slung around her shoulder with several arrows still resting inside it. I walked toward her to introduce myself.

"Hey there!" the woman said enthusiastically as she turned toward me. "You the new guy?"

"Indeed I am," I said with a chuckle. "I'm Sargoth," I said as I extended my hand.

"Handshakes are for strangers, friend," she replied, and she wrapped her arms around me in a bear hug. "I'm Anora. It's a pleasure to meet you, and welcome to the family," she said, her glowing smile brought warmth to my heart.

"The pleasure is mine, Anora."

As I was able to get a good look at her, the first thing I noticed was her rather unusual appearance. She had the facial structure of a Nord, but her cheekbones were slightly raised like most Elves' would be, and her eyes were also a little bit slanted. She was shorter than the average Nord would be; her height also resembled that of an Elf. She had very long hair that flowed elegantly to her back; her auburn tresses also coming down past her face. Her eyes were a bright and pure green color that resembled the trees themselves; looking into them would have reminded you of a beautiful, lush forest. She was quite small, about chin height to me, and she looked light as a feather.

"You know," Anora started to say as she brushed her hair out of her face with her hand, "I was actually the newest member here until you came along. I know what it's like to be the "new person", so I'll be more than happy to help you in getting used to everything. If you have any questions about anything at all, don't hesitate to ask me. I don't bite, I promise," she said with a cute giggle.

I was very appreciative of this woman's kindness and friendliness. "Sounds good. Thank you Anora."

"We'll stick together, I watch your back and you watch mine. Deal?" she asked eagerly.

"Deal," I agreed.

Red met green that moment as we looked into each other's eyes; her hair was glimmering a reddish color from the light of the torches as it sat tucked behind her pointed ears. I could see that she was blushing from the faint glow that emitted from her face; I figured I was probably doing the same. I found the silence a bit awkward at first, but I then realized that sometimes there are moments where no words are needed; sometimes silence can say far more than all the words in the world can. I could feel my stomach beginning to flutter as we continued to gaze into each other's soul; the initial awkwardness was soon replaced by comfort and serenity. My mind became lost in that moment, like it was floating amongst the clouds sitting high in the heavens. All the troubles and worries that usually shadowed my mind simply vanished then, it was like a light brighter than the sun itself and warmer than a burning fire was shining away the darkness that lingered inside me.

That moment could not have lasted more than ten or fifteen seconds, but to me it felt as long as an era. I could feel a connection being formed that I had never felt before, and I knew that Anora was feeling the exact same way I was.

"So, I see you're an archer," I stated, finally breaking the silence.

Anora smiled at my observation. "That I am!" her rosy blush was still present on her illuminating face. "My father bought me my first bow when I was just six years old; he taught me everything I know. He took me out hunting almost every day, and I killed my first elk when I was just seven. Archery has been one of my greatest passions in my life; I've always felt more comfortable outside in the woods than inside a kitchen any day," Anora's voice radiated with pride as she spoke, and I was glad to meet somebody who was just as passionate about archery and hunting as I was.

"I just so happen to be an avid archer and hunter myself," I began to explain to her. "My mother bought me my first bow as a present for my tenth birthday, and I would spend countless hours outside just practicing until my calloused fingers were bleeding from the bowstring digging into them," Anora and I both laughed, and nostalgia was filling my heart as I fondly recalled my mother's face beaming with pride as she would watch my progress. Those were the moments I found myself wishing I could return to, that I still wish I could return to. The times of childhood innocence, the times where I carried none of the burdens or responsibilities of being a grown adult. The times where my worries were minimal, and my carefree imagination was free to wander to my heart's content.

"I didn't get into hunting nearly as early as you did, but I still remember the moment when I took down my first deer. The rush of excitement, the pounding of my heart as I felt it threatening to burst out of my chest, and the thrill of success when I saw the animal drop to the ground as my arrow struck its hide," I reminisced, and Anora nodded her head in agreement as she knew exactly the feelings I was talking about. I unsheathed my bow to let Anora take a closer look at it, and I could immediately tell that she was impressed by it.

"Wow, that is beautiful Sargoth! If I'm not mistaken, that's of Elven make isn't it?" she asked as I handed her the golden bow.

"It is," I replied as Anora ran her fingers along the weapon.

"Where did you get this?" she asked me, still in astonishment.

"That's actually a funny story that I don't really care to get into right now, but perhaps I'll tell you another time," I said with a slight tease in my voice.

"Mind if I try it out?" she asked.

"Be my guest."

Anora gripped my bow in her left hand, and I watched as she unsheathed an arrow from the quiver slung around her and nocked it into place. She took a confident stance as she pulled the bowstring back, and she took several seconds to line up her shot. Her arrow flew gracefully through the air as she fired, and she almost scored a bullseye.

"Not bad," I complimented.

"This bow is so light, and comfortable to hold!" Anora exclaimed. "You hardly even feel the string at all when you pull it back, and there's almost no recoil," she was clearly impressed by it.

"I've had that bow since I was twelve; I consider it my most prized possession," I told her.

"Very impressive, I've never fired anything like that before," Anora said as she handed the bow back to me.

We stood silent for a moment before an idea popped into my head.

"Say, how about you and I have a little shooting contest? The loser buys the winner any drink of their choice,"

A grin swept across Anora's face. "You're on, Elf. You might have a nicer bow, but I bet you don't match my skill," she said in a competitive demeanor.

"Oh we'll just see about that, won't we?" I said with a smirk.

Anora drew her bow and readied her arrow. After several seconds of aiming, the woman fired the first shot. Her arrow landed in the second innermost ring of the target. Anora stepped away confidently, and I was impressed by her shot.

I stepped forward to take my shot, and all other thoughts quickly vanished from my mind as I focused on the target standing before me. I took a deep breath and let my arrow loose. Unfortunately, I jerked my hand at the last second, and my arrow landed in one of the outer rings of the target.

"By the Nine!" I shouted with annoyance.

Anora was just laughing. "I can taste the free mead already!" she said as she stepped forward to take her next shot. She pulled her bowstring back, and she made yet another impressive shot, although not as good as her first. She smiled as she stepped away.

_All right, no more fooling around. This girl's mopping the floor with me. Time to show her what years of practice have done_.

I readied my second arrow, and I focused on my heart rate as well as the tension within my body. I made sure to relax every muscle as I took aim. I gently released the string, and I saw the arrow land just an inch shy of the bullseye.

I turned around to face Anora. "I think I'm in the mood for a whiskey right now. Getting it for free will surely make it taste that much better," I quirked.

"This ain't over yet, Dunmer. Those were just practice shots. It's time to show you what I can really do!" Anora said confidently, and she stepped forward again.

I could see that Anora was slightly tenser than before, and she took a bit longer to aim than she did previously. But it paid off, and I watched as her arrow glided through the air and landed directly in the bullseye. I cursed silently; there was no way I was going to beat that.

"Let's see you top _that_ off," was all Anora said, and I knew she was eagerly awaiting her free drink.

I readied my third and final shot; I struggled to control my shaking limbs. I could almost hear my heart pounding against my chest; it felt like a giant had taken its mighty club and was relentlessly beating against me with the fury of a roaring thunderstorm.

After taking several moments to relax myself and focusing properly, I let my arrow fly. I could feel time itself slowing down as I anxiously watched the arrow approach the target; those few seconds felt like years to me, and my anxiety was flaring inside of me like a raging forest fire. My arrow hit the target, and in a moment that still leaves me awestruck to this day, it hit the bullseye dead center, splitting Anora's arrow completely in two. I stood frozen like a glacier, unable to believe the shot I had just made. I turned around to see Anora whose jaw was dropped in amazement.

"How…how did you….how is that even….possible?" the woman asked in complete and utter shock. I was just as amazed as she was to be entirely truthful.

"I…I have no idea," was all I could say.

Several seconds passed until Anora spoke up again. "You have a gift, Sargoth. I've never seen anything like that before. The Divines themselves must have guided that shot."

"So, I would say I've earned that free drink, wouldn't you?" I asked proudly.

"Friend, you've earned a _hundred_ free drinks," Anora replied, and we shared a chuckle. "Come on, let's go upstairs."

Anora and I made our way to the lounge where I had met everybody else, and I saw that the room was now pretty much cleared out. Rasha was still working behind the bar, and she approached us as Anora and I sat in the stools in front of it.

"What'll ya's have?" the Redguard asked us.

"Whiskey for him, and mead for me. I'm paying for both of them," Anora answered.

"Comin right up," Rasha said as she went to fetch our drinks. Anora paid her as she came back with the drinks, and I immediately brought the mug to my lips. The drink was icy cold, and I savored the flavor for several seconds as I swirled it on my tongue.

"Cheers," said Anora, and we both hit our mugs together as we raised them in the air. We both relaxed as we enjoyed our drinks, and I smiled as I watched Anora almost chug her mead down.

"Sorry if this seems a bit forward, but what race are you?" I asked Anora with curiosity.

She giggled, probably an indication that wasn't the first time she heard that question. "I get that a lot, actually. I know it's hard to tell," she said as she brought her mug to her mouth again. "My father was a Nord; my mother a Bosmer, so I'm basically a split between those two."

"I figured as much. You have the strong Nord jawline, but your eyes and ears are pretty much entirely Elven. You're also not tall enough to be a pure Nord," I said.

"You callin me short?" Anora asked as she gave me a playful nudge on the arm.

"Uh…no?" I said awkwardly. Anora just burst out laughing.

"Don't worry; everyone teases me about my height. You should've seen me when I first met Torgron. I'm pretty sure I soiled myself, he was pretty much a giant to me," we both laughed. "Give me a bow however, and I'm just as deadly as the rest of them."

"How old are you?" I asked Anora.

"Just turned nineteen in Last Seed," was her reply.

"Ah. I'm just two months your senior. I turned nineteen in Midyear." I was glad to have some people here close to my age.

The two of us sat together in the lounge; only the sound of our voices and the crackling of the torches could be heard. Anora's presence was very comforting to me, and combined with the delicious whiskey sitting in my stomach, I felt nothing but pure bliss in that moment. I knew then that I had made the right decision in following Galthar and joining the Crimson Serpents. Everybody had welcomed me with open arms. I may have been there for less than a day, but by the way they treated me, I might as well have been there for years. They treated me like I was a part of the family all along, and their kindness was like a blanket caressing me in complete warmth after spending so many years out in the cold.

I finished my drink and stood up from my seat. "I think I'm gonna explore a bit more. I don't think I've met everybody yet, so I'm gonna do that then get some sleep. That journey pretty well sucked all my energy right outta me," I said to Anora.

"All right, I'll see you around then. It was a pleasure to meet you Sargoth, and I look forward to working with you very soon," Anora said as she stood and gave me another hug.

I nodded and smiled at her. "Thanks for the drink," and with that, I left the lounge.

* * *

I navigated my way back through the long corridor until I ended up in the front entrance of Fort Blackmoon again. I walked up the staircase until I was on the second floor, and I could see several doors which led to more bedrooms. I walked down another hallway, and to my left I saw a room with the door wide open. I saw a large cloud of smoke emerging from the room, and I started coughing violently for several seconds as I slowly walked inside to find the source.

I eventually spotted a Khajiit sitting alone in a chair. His fur was almost entirely black, save for a few grey stripes that ran across his face. Numerous scars lined the feline's face, and from what I could see through the shroud of smoke, a small piece of his left ear was missing. The Khajiit looked up at me, and I could see the source of the smoke: a long brown pipe was sticking out of his mouth.

"Ah, greetings newcomer. Khajiit hopes you are finding yourself at home," the cat said as he took another whiff of his pipe.

"Thank you, and I am. I'm Sargoth, and you are….?"

"This one's name is Jari," the Khajiit replied. "Good to meet you as well, Sargoth. Would you like some moon sugar?" he asked.

"Is that what you're smoking?" I asked, coughing again. "I didn't know it could be _smoked_." Jari continued to puff away; smoke was coming out of him like a chimney.

"Oh yes dear friend, it most certainly can," he began. "Most people refine it into skooma, but Jari prefers it in its natural form. When smoked, it is much more potent, and Jari feels like he can touch the sky; like he's flying away beside the moons," Jari explained with a relaxed tone of voice. He grabbed another pipe from his table and put some moon sugar in it, then he handed it to me.

"Try it, you'll feel like you're walking on the clouds," Jari said as I took the pipe from him.

I looked at it for a moment, deciding if I should really do it or not. Jari was clearly enjoying it, and it looked harmless enough.

"All right, why not?" I said, and I let out a small spark with my flame spell and lit the pipe. I coughed at first, but as I let the thick fumes enter my body, I immediately knew that Jari was right. I could feel my tense muscles beginning to relax almost immediately; an intense euphoria began to engulf me as I puffed more and more from the pipe, and I felt like my whole body was becoming lighter than a feather. I almost got the urge to get up and start flying like a bird. It felt like I was living my whole life with a huge boulder lying on my chest up to that point, and suddenly it was being lifted off of me. I felt incredible, I felt liberated, and I felt free. My eyes began to see shapes and colors I had never before imagined; my mind was drifting in and out of different dimensions and worlds that were so vivid I could've sworn they were real.

Jari and I sat next to each other on the cold ground, giggling like little children as our glazed eyes stared into the abyss as our faces were obscured by the cloud of smoke; slipping gradually away from reality and into the fantasy world of our minds that the drug was creating. I don't even remember exactly what we said then. I do know we started off talking about flying mammoths, and then we discussed what would happen if you took a wolf and a chicken and put them together. And several times, Jari kept attacking the walls; he swore that he was seeing arms sprouting from them that were trying to grab him.

I was glad Jari had talked me into trying out smoking. That was by far the most euphoric sensation I had ever felt, and I was somewhat saddened when my high began to wear off and I could feel myself slipping back into reality. My dull, insipid reality.

"I can see why you love that shit so much Jari. I felt like I was floating in the heavens themselves," I said, still mesmerized by what just happened.

"I've got plenty of the stuff here with me. You want more, just ask," the Khajiit said. I could tell his buzz was wearing off as well.

"Thank you Jari, and nice meeting you."

That was how my love of smoking started.

After leaving Jari's room, I looked around the fort a bit more until coming upon an empty room. I looked inside, and I decided it looked elegant enough to settle in to and make it my own. The bed was made with the blankets tucked away neatly, and there was a bookcase with several tomes perfectly aligned. A small candle sat atop an end table sitting next to the bed, and there was also a small rack which I hung up my bag as well as my bow and arrows. A chest sat at the foot of the bed, and there was also a large wooden drawer which sat at the other end against the wall. There were no windows in the room, so it was rather dark, but I always loved the dark anyways and I knew the candle would provide adequate lighting.

After tossing my belongings on the floor, I pretty much flopped onto the double bed and completely relaxed my body as the fur and wool blankets caressed me. My mind began to clear as I closed my eyes; every bone and muscle in my body was completely at ease. The journey here with Galthar was quite tiresome, and I was overjoyed that I finally had a chance to get some proper rest. I opened my eyes again slightly, and I was startled when I saw someone sitting in the chair across the room.

"By Azura!" I shouted as I jumped slightly. As I looked at the intruder in my room, I saw that it was covered from head to toe in a black cloak; its face was completely obscured and concealed from view by the long hood that draped over its head.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," it spoke. The voice was female; it was soft and deep, but also raspy at the same time.

"So you're the rookie," she said.

"Uh…yeah," I answered, trying to regain my composure. "I'm-"

"Sargoth," the hooded woman interrupted. "I know who you are. I saw you the second you walked in here with Galthar."

"R..really?" I asked, rather perplexed. "I didn't see anyone else when I first came in."

"I know. I don't like to stand out. Most people don't know I even exist, and that's how I like it," the woman said with a firm and stern demeanor.

"Ah, I see," I replied. I was confused by this strange, enigmatic woman, but I accepted that perhaps she just didn't like people, or was at least distrustful of them. "And your name is?" I wasn't actually expecting her to answer.

"Moon," she replied. It was a name as somber, dark, and mysterious as she was. It couldn't have been her real name, but I dared not press the matter.

"Nice to meet you, Moon."

"Yeah, you too. I guess," was all she said.

Moon's face was still shadowed by her black hood, but I could tell she was staring at me with much intent. I was feeling a bit uneasy around this woman; I couldn't tell if she liked me or if she hated my guts. We looked at each other in a moment of awkward silence, and I found myself trying desperately to find something to say.

"Is this your room?" I asked her.

Moon was silent for several moments. "I read in here. But there are a hundred other places in this rat-hole to read at. It's no bother, really," she said.

"What do you like to read?" I asked, trying not to sound eager or annoying.

"Spell tomes, mostly,"

"You're a mage as well?"

"Yes. And twice the mage Soren could ever hope to be," her sullen voice picked up a little with that reply.

I smiled at Moon's comment. "Could you teach _me_ anything?" I asked.

"Maybe. Assuming I don't hate you by the end of the week," she answered.

"I see. Well, do you hate me so far?" I was slightly afraid of her answer.

"Well you're not a loudmouth like Torgron, so you're off to a good start. You seem to have a good head on your shoulders. Just don't get full of yourself if you want it to stay there," Moon said, and I laughed quietly at her answer.

"I guess I can live with that."

Moon then abruptly stood up from her chair and headed for the door; her dark cloak dragging along the stone floor.

"See you around then?" I asked.

"Yeah," was all she said, and she was gone just like that.

I went to sleep shortly after that. After spending weeks sleeping on the cold ground, it was nice to finally be sleeping in a warm, cozy bed. I drifted into a peaceful slumber rather quickly, and that was honestly the first proper sleep I had had in a long time.

* * *

I awoke the next morning feeling refreshed and energized, which was quite rare for me. I got dressed and made my way to the lounge where I had met most of the Serpents the previous day, and I saw that a couple of my new family members were already in there, enjoying some breakfast and alcohol. I sat at a table, and Rasha brought me some food and ale. After I finished eating, I saw Galthar and Shadow approaching me.

"Greetings, dear brother. I trust you are rested?" the Argonian asked.

"Yes, very much so. Thank you," I replied kindly.

"Good," the Altmer began, "because today you undertake your first assignment for the Crimson Serpents." I felt excited at Galthar's words. I was yearning to get out there, doing what I loved, which was thieving. "Shadow will accompany you. As a senior member, he will be evaluating your performance. Valryn has also agreed to come along to provide support," Galthar finished.

Just as Galthar said that, I saw my fellow Dark Elf brother walk in and join us.

"Ready to tear shit up, Drelas?" Valryn asked me excitedly.

I nodded my head to his question.

"The job is simple enough, really," Galthar spoke again. "A small pack of bandits stole a priceless amulet from our client; he wants it back. They dwell in a cave not even ten minutes south of here. Kill them, get the amulet back, and you're done," the High Elf finished explaining.

"We leave shortly, brother," Shadow said.

I went to my room to retrieve my bow and quiver, and after making sure I had enough arrows, I set off and met Shadow and Valryn outside where we all mounted our horses. I looked into the shining rays of the rising sun for a brief moment before setting off to commence our assignment.

The ride to the bandits' cave was short enough. The three of us dismounted our horses nearby and took cover in the trees where we could see three bandits standing guard outside.

"Hmm," Shadow began thinking. "This'll be easier than I thought. I suggest taking out all three of them at once from here. The bandits inside will still be unaware of our intrusion," the Argonian said. Valryn and I nodded in agreement. "Okay, I'll take the one on the left. Valryn, you get the middle one. Sargoth, take the one on the right." We each drew our bows and took aim at our respective targets, and after several moments, we unleashed the fury of our arrows in unison. The bandits fell dead before they even knew what hit them.

"Well done. Now we move in. Tread lightly," Shadow warned.

We slowly snuck our way into the cave, where our eyes were met with the rest of the bandit pack guarding a few treasure chests. They saw us almost immediately, and I was able to take out one of them with an arrow before being forced to draw my sword. Shadow unsheathed twin daggers, and Valryn an Elven sword. We gracefully and elegantly dodged the bandits' attacks, and within minutes we were standing proud over their corpses.

"Looks like I still got it!" Valryn said joyfully. "I was worried my sword arm was getting flabby."

"Sargoth, check that chest over there. Surely that is where the amulet is being kept. Mind the bear trap in front of it," Shadow instructed.

I heeded the lizard's warning and retrieved the sparkling artifact from the chest.

"Good work boys, Galthar will be pleased to hear of our success. I'll be sure to tell him of your rather impressive performance," Shadow said to me.

We rode back to Fort Blackmoon where Galthar was waiting for us.

"The mission was most successful, boss," Shadow said proudly.

"I expected no less from you Shadow. Good work. And Sargoth?" Galthar asked, turning his gaze to me.

"I see why you chose him Gal. He's as stealthy as a snake, and those bandits didn't stand a chance against him. It was an honor working with him," Shadow praised me. I smiled at his kind words.

"Well done Sargoth, I knew you would impress," Galthar said. "Your payment as promised." The Altmer handed me a coin purse with five-hundred septims. "You're going to fit in quite nicely here. Yes, _quite_ nicely indeed."

* * *

**A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. It's not easy making up your own faction, but I'm happy with how everything turned out. I'd really appreciate it if you took a moment to leave a review. I'd particularly like to hear what you think of my characters. I had a blast writing them, and I hope you like them too. Thanks to all my readers, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	15. Bonds of Friendship

I quickly swung my head to the side as Valryn's blade glided in the air towards me; his attack missing me by mere inches. I lost my balance for a split second, and that was enough time for the Dunmer to knock my sword out of my hand and kick me to the ground. My sword landed several feet away from me, there was no way I'd be able to retrieve it and defend myself. I lay there defeated as Valryn laughed triumphantly; several of my fingers were sore and bruised from being struck, and my muscles were aching like someone had lit them aflame. We may have just been using wooden practice swords, but those things still hurt like a bitch when hit by one. Valryn came over to me and lent me his hand, and he pulled me back up to my feet.

"What's wrong, Drelas? You're not fighting as well as you usually do; you don't look like you're into it at all. Is something the matter?" the Dark Elf asked with much concern in his voice.

"I agree with Valryn," said Stalks-The-Shadows, who had been watching over our practice sessions. "Something's got you down, Sargoth. This isn't like you."

I sighed as I looked to the ground, away from my companions. I was grateful for their concern, but I couldn't help but feel ashamed that they were right. I was usually much better than this, but today I was off my game, and it was showing.

"I'm fine guys," I lied. "I just didn't sleep well last night." I hoped Shadow and Valryn would be satisfied with that answer.

"We can always stop the match if you wish," Shadow offered.

"No Shadow, really, I'll be all right," I told the Argonian. I walked over to my sword and grasped it in my hand which was still throbbing in pain. I started stretching my fingers in an attempt to hopefully ease the pain even a little bit. I looked to the sky at the afternoon sun as it caressed the whole land in a blanket of warmth. Not a single cloud was looming above, and the sky was as blue as the oceans themselves.

I could see Torgron working the forge a short distance away; he was sort of the blacksmith of the group. In fact, he had made just about all the weapons that everybody used as well as the armor. Cendaeus was standing by Torgron as he was teaching him the art of blacksmithing. He was showing him how to make a simple iron dagger, and Cendaeus definitely didn't look like he was getting it. I could hear Torgron laughing at the poor Imperial as he produced yet another failed dagger. Whether the blade was bent, or the metal was simply too brittle and would shatter upon the slightest amount of impact, every dagger that Cendaeus made was more of a failure than the last, and I couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for the guy.

Soren was sitting away in the shade against the walls of the fort; his nose was deep in a book, probably a spell tome. When the Breton wasn't casting spells in the air or conjuring some sort of strange creature, you could always find him sitting by himself with a book in his hands. I swear that man was in a different world when he was reading. A dragon itself could attack the fort and Soren wouldn't even notice. I saw that he was much like me in the fact that he preferred to live in the fantasy world that books provided; he saw them as an escape from the real world as I did. When I read, I absorbed every ounce of information that the pages provided; every word was etched into my brain until I knew the whole thing off the back of my hand. I was happy to see that I wasn't the only avid reader in this gang, and I always enjoyed conversing with Soren and exchanging all the different stories we had read.

On the other side of the fort, sitting on a set of stairs, was Jari. He was watching the rest of us from afar in silence, his pipe in his mouth and a shroud of smoke was blowing past his face and into the crisp air of the warm afternoon.

I had been in the Crimson Serpents for close to a month at that time, and I had gotten to know most of my brothers and sisters quite well. What amazed me was despite how different we all were from each other, we were still a tightly knit group of people; a family. We all had different personalities, different backgrounds, came from different parts of the world, and we all had our different areas of expertise. Each of us had a different story to tell; we all had our own struggles and tragedies in our lives, and we all had different circumstances that led us to become a part of the Crimson Serpents. I very much enjoyed getting to know my fellow Serpents, and I was fascinated by everyone's different stories of how they ended up here.

There was of course Galthar, our leader, and the founder of the Crimson Serpents. Like he did with me, Galthar personally recruited every single member that was currently in the Serpents himself. He traveled far and wide across Tamriel for individuals who showed particular talent; those he saw as useful. Before joining the Serpents, everyone here was previously living in poverty and destitution, or just barely making ends meet. They had all been dealt a bad hand in life like I was; the world had rejected them and cared little about their unfortunate circumstances. Galthar found each of them in their hour of need. He saw the hidden potential, the hidden talent that lay dormant within them, and he offered them a chance at a better life. He gave them a chance to embrace and nurture their talent; to escape the desperation that they had been trapped in. For that, every person in this group was grateful to him. I know for a fact that several of the Serpents would have been dead was it not for Galthar. He gave them a better life than they could possibly have imagined.

Being a High Elf, Galthar was quite arrogant and full of himself, but everyone just sort of accepted that as part of his character. He was a serious person and preferred to keep to himself fairly often, but that didn't mean he wouldn't mingle with the rest of us from time to time. He would usually join us in the lounge at the end of the day when everyone was gathered there after a long, hard day at work. He didn't speak up too often during our conversations, but he always had a witty remark or two up his sleeve when the time was right. Galthar was very knowledgeable about the world, and he never missed an opportunity to boast about his experiences and travels.

Torgron and Soren came into the Crimson Serpents together. Soren's family had been killed by marauders when he was just a teenager, and Torgron found him shortly after and he soon became like an older brother to him. Torgron used to be a member of the Fighters Guild, but he ended up leaving due to growing disillusioned with the direction it was heading, and with Soren having already been kicked out of the Mages Guild by then, they were both struggling for work and they found themselves barely able to get by. It was then that Galthar discovered them, as well as the talent the both of them possessed. He offered them a home with the Crimson Serpents, and now they were both very highly valued members of the family.

Torgron looked intimidating upon first meeting him, due mostly to his size, but the Nord was as friendly as they came; he carried a strong love for his friends, and he would not hesitate for a second to die for any one of us. In battle, the man was fiercer than a dragon. The way he swung his mighty battle-axe in the air, the way his enemies fell before him in waves, the way he fought to protect those he cared about most. Torgron was a valiant warrior, and in my opinion, he was the true embodiment of everything a Nord should be. He carried himself with honor and strength, and he was an inspiration to everyone in the Crimson Serpents, and we all respected him, even if he was the butt of a lot of our jokes.

Soren was the polar opposite of Torgron in terms of combat, and also in the way he preferred to deal with problems. Whereas Torgron prided himself on his brute strength and relied on his fists to solve most of his problems, Soren relied on his mind and his wisdom. The Breton had no love for weapons. In fact, the one time I saw Soren try to use a blade, he nearly sliced off his own hand. Soren was a keen student of the arcane arts, and he was much more comfortable with a spell tome in his hands than a sword or an axe. His knowledge of magic was indeed extensive, and his mastery of Destruction was invaluable during combat. Soren's spells were powerful enough to rival even the largest warrior with the sharpest sword. He was the perfect support for Torgron's strength, and the two of them were truly a deadly force on the battlefield.

In terms of personality, Soren was quite introverted and not nearly as talkative as Torgron. The Breton kept to himself fairly often, and he preferred to speak with his mind than his mouth. Whenever you saw him, he was sure to have his nose deep in a book. Soren could be cocky and full of himself by times, but like Torgron, he was always there for his friends and he shared the Nord's deep loyalty for those he cared about. Soren was always ready to lend a hand to anyone who needed it, and he was even teaching me much of his knowledge of the arcane. I very much enjoyed conversing with Soren about magic, and I learned a lot from him during my time with the Serpents. I was always so amazed how he and Torgron were so different from one another, and yet they had the closest friendship I had seen between anybody I had ever met. They were like brothers to each other, and they shared a bond deeper than even the greatest ocean.

Rasha was the caretaker and the "mother figure" of the Serpents. The Redguard woman used to be a proficient assassin back in her day, but she was getting up there in age and she didn't have quite the physical capacity that she used to. She spent most of her time caring for all the other members of the gang. Whether it was cooking for everyone, or serving us drinks to help us relax at the end of the day, or cleaning up the lounge after one of our many drunken and rowdy parties, Rasha worked her bones off every day to keep the lot of us in line. I knew that she was an important part of the Serpents, and without her, we would have fallen apart within days. While Rasha was usually busy most of the time with keeping the fort clean and keeping the gang in order, she was always able to find time to sit down and socialize with us. She was a great listener, and everyone felt comfortable coming to her to discuss their problems, and Rasha was always willing to lend some advice. While most of her duties were carried out unnoticed in the background, we all knew that we would be nothing without her, and we were all appreciative of her efforts to take care of us.

Stalks-The-Shadows was Galthar's right hand, and everybody pretty much considered him to be the second-in-command of the Crimson Serpents, though the Argonian himself would have denied it. Shadow acted as Galthar's advisor, and the Altmer always ran his plans through with him first. In combat, Shadow more than lived up to his name. The Argonian would literally become one with the darkness, and he could eliminate an entire platoon of enemies before they even knew he was there. Shadow was a skilled archer, and he was also deadly with his twin daggers; spinning them in his hands as he moved like the wind to bring down his foes. Shadow took it upon himself to make sure everyone's skills were as honed as they could be, and he always encouraged us to perform at our absolute best. He would never hesitate to critique anyone when he needed to, but he also made sure to give praise when it was due.

The two Bosmer in the Serpents, Lorian and Ihriel, were both born and raised in their race's homeland of Valenwood. Lorian never spoke much of his past, but he did tell me that he was forced to flee his home after he was framed for a murder he insisted he didn't commit. Like most Wood Elves, he specialized in archery, but he was also a competent alchemist, and he provided most of the healing potions that everybody used during missions.

Ihriel was born into a wealthy, noble family. She ran away from Valenwood when she was just sixteen in order to escape a forced marriage to an Altmer from the Summerset Isles that her parents had arranged. Ihriel told me she absolutely despised the man her parents had chosen for her, and that she refused to be some snotty nobleman's trophy wife. She was much more comfortable in the life of an outlaw than within the nobility, and on the day her wedding was to take place, Ihriel stole a horse and rode almost non-stop until she came to Cyrodiil. Galthar found her shortly after, and she joined the Crimson Serpents where she met Lorian, and they fell in love almost instantly. Ihriel possessed a sarcastic and dry sense of humor; her tongue was sharper than a knife, and most people who didn't know her well would probably be offended by the way she spoke. The Bosmer woman was a loyal friend though, and she carried a stout heart that served her well in battle.

Cendaeus was someone I never did really get close to. I mean, he wasn't a bad guy or anything, but I suppose we just never really clicked. He was quite withdrawn and didn't socialize with the others very often, and because of that I think he was just hard to get to know. I did spar with him several times for practice, and I knew that he was skilled with a blade. Terrible archer though. The Imperial wouldn't have been able to hit a giant even if it were standing right in front of him. He wasn't great with magic either, and Soren gave him plenty of flak for that. From the times I did work with him though, I saw that he was a skilled thief, and he was very good at slipping past guards undetected.

Jari the Khajiit, now _he_ was a character. It was damn near impossible to find him without a pipe full of moon sugar in his mouth. I actually began to wonder if he even saw himself as part of reality, as he was almost always high from his moon sugar, and on the outside, Jari appeared to be in a constant state of elation. I began to suspect however that deep down, Jari was troubled, and he smoked in order to escape whatever it was that was haunting him. I mean, nobody smokes that much unless they are trying to block out painful memories or repress feelings of sadness. Despite all that, Jari was one of the most skilled thieves I had ever met; his talent in larceny easily rivaled Shadow's. The Khajiit's prowess with a lockpick was just as precise as with a blade, and his ability to remain hidden within the shadows was uncanny. Jari and I shared many fond memories together, even though we were high for most of them. We would spend hours just smoking together; completely lost in utter bliss as our minds entered the fantasy worlds that the moon sugar created. He was a good friend, and we grew quite close throughout the years.

And then there was Moon. Nobody knew a damn thing about her; the woman would go for days at a time without showing herself, and when she did, she seldom spoke to anyone. Sometimes I would forget that she was even there. On the rare occasions that I did speak with her, she usually just gave me one word responses that told me literally nothing about her. The fact that Moon downright refused to show her face to anyone made it quite clear that she didn't trust any of us, and perhaps she even held some of us in contempt. The other Serpents accepted her anyways though; she was family, and she was given the same respect that anyone else would receive.

"Yeah, Moon rarely shows herself to anybody." I remember Torgron telling me once. "But we love her anyways. And don't tell Soren, but she would utterly destroy him in a magic duel." I found myself wondering what could have happened in Moon's past that made her that way, but I wasn't stupid enough to actually ask her.

My two closest friends in the Crimson Serpents, without a doubt, were Valryn and Anora. In the short time I had known him, Valryn and I had already become like brothers. We carried out almost every contract we received together, and we always had each other's back while on the job; either one of us would not hesitate to take an arrow for the other. We could talk to each other about absolutely anything, and we were always there for each other to lend a hand when one of us needed it. That Dark Elf was also by far the biggest womanizer I have ever met in my life. Ihriel was right in saying that he thought with his dick more than his brain. Whenever we went to a tavern, Valryn almost immediately started flirting up the wenches and barmaids, and they flocked to him like moths around a flame. While Valryn would be in one of the rooms with at least two or three women with him, I'd be sitting alone with nothing but a mug in my hand for company. Valryn would come back out about an hour later, and we would then leave and be on our way.

Valryn Sarenthis was a loyal friend though, and a skilled fighter. I loved working with him, and I couldn't have asked for a better man to be my partner in crime, as well as my best friend.

And as for Anora, I was absolutely enamored by that woman the moment I first laid eyes on her. I found myself almost hypnotized every time I looked into her sparkling green eyes; she possessed the body of a goddess, and her hair was as soft as a silk fabric. To me, Anora was the epitome of beauty, and her loving personality made me all the more attracted to her. Anora showed me a kindness that nobody other than my mother had ever shown me before; she would never hesitate to stop whatever she was doing and sit down with me if I wanted to talk. She was a great listener; she absorbed every word I said like a sponge, and she was always quick to give me words of comfort that warmed my very soul. I loved practicing archery with her, and we would also go out hunting together several times. We would always make a game out of it and see who could kill the biggest animal. I wanted nothing more in the world than to simply tell Anora how I felt about her; I was simply waiting for the right time to do so. I was almost certain she felt the same way, but I was still plagued by anxiety and whenever I would muster the courage to tell her, I would chicken out at the last second.

The pain in my hand was still flaring, and I decided maybe I should take a break from sparring. I sat down on one of the steps leading to the entrance to the fort, and Valryn joined me soon after.

"You sure you're all right buddy?" Valryn asked with concern. "Shadow and I can both see you're not fighting as well as you usually do. What's wrong?"

I was silent for a moment, deciding whether or not to tell Valryn what was on my mind. He was concerned for me and genuinely wanted to help, and I figured it probably wasn't right to leave him in the dark. Friends aren't supposed to keep things from each other.

"Today is the second anniversary of my mother's death," I told my fellow Dunmer. "Two years ago today, I lost her." All the dreadful memories of that terrible day I was trying so hard to repress were all now suddenly rushing back to me like a fierce tidal wave in the ocean. I brushed a tear from my eye as I looked solemnly to the horizon.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Sargoth. You must have loved her very much," Valryn said sympathetically.

"I did." I could hear my voice shuddering. "I came home one night after a stroll in the woods; normal day, normal life. I come home expecting to be greeted by a nice hot dinner accompanied by a warm fire. Instead, I found my mother's blood-soaked corpse lying next to her bed. Her hand was clenching a dagger; she had taken her own life." I could see a look of sadness crossing Valryn's face.

"My world as I knew it fell apart that moment. I had no idea what I was going to do; how I was going to survive. I felt as if I was lost in a dark, vast forest with no chance of ever finding my way out," I confided to Valryn. I could see that he was struggling to say something.

"I can't even find the words to say how sorry I am, friend. If you need anything, anything at all, just ask. Or if you just wanna talk, I'll always be here to lend an ear," Valryn said. I appreciated his comfort during that moment.

"Thanks Val, that means a lot to me." The two of us were silent for several moments. I could still hear Torgron and Cendaeus chattering in the distance by the forge. Soren was still reading under the shade, and Lorian had now come outside and started working at the alchemy station. A breeze began to blow through the crisp autumn air; my hair was tickling my skin as it blew into my face. I could hear flocks of birds singing in the swaying branches of the trees above, and the thick, white blankets of snow covering the Jerall Mountains could be seen dancing along with the chilling wind.

"There's a job Galthar wants me to do later today." Valryn broke the silence. "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to…."

"I'd love to," I said immediately, practically reading the Dark Elf's mind. "I need something to take my mind off all this shit. What's the job?"

"Nothin too difficult really. There's a caravan that will be passing through the area loaded with weapons and other valuable goods. Galthar just wants us to go up and steal the wagon and bring it back here. There might be a few guards, so we'll have to be ready for that," said Valryn.

"Well, we wouldn't want it to be _too _easy now would we?" I smirked.

"A fair point my friend, a fair point," Valryn chuckled.

* * *

An hour passed, and I met Valryn outside the stables where we both mounted our horses and rode away at a quick pace until the fort was a mere speck in the distance. Once we got onto the main road, we slowed our horses down to a trot, and I allowed myself to take in all the beauty of the vast forest we were riding through.

"So Valryn, what brought you to the Serpents anyway?" I asked the Dark Elf as we continued to ride along the snow-laden road.

"Interesting story, really," Valryn began. "I was brought up in Morrowind, like most Dunmer would be. My mother was an assistant to a Telvanni wizard, and my father a soldier in the Imperial Legion. My pa died when I was just ten years old. My ma raised me by herself, and over the years I got to be quite a handful for her." The current of the wind picked up slightly as Valryn spoke.

"I eventually grew to be too much for my ma. I was getting more rebellious, I had gotten in trouble with the law several times, and I was just generally up to no good most of the time. Ma threw me out of the house when I was seventeen, and I found myself living off scraps on the streets," Valryn told me.

"Sounds rough," I said.

"Oh you have no idea my friend. Well one day, I'm pretty much desperate for food, and I try and rob a market stand nearby. A guard sees me, and the next thing I know I'm staring at the bars in a jail cell. Now here's the best part. A day into my imprisonment, I see a slip of paper slide through the door to my cell. I pick it up, and it's a map of a secret escape route built into the cell. The piece of paper also said to go to an inn that was a mile west after I got out. So I break out of the jail and follow the instructions on the note, and none other than Galthar was waiting for me there." I was very entertained by Valryn's story so far.

"He tells me that he slipped the note into the jail, and then he tells me about the Crimson Serpents and offers me to join almost instantly. The rest as they say is history!" Valryn finished.

"Quite a tale indeed," I said to the Dunmer. I was still thinking about Valryn's story, and I almost missed the caravan that was now a short distance from us.

"Hold up," Valryn said, gesturing us to stop with his hand. "Down there. See?"

I nodded to Valryn as I saw the wagon being escorted by several merchants, and even more guards.

"Damn. I count at least seven guards," Valryn said with frustration.

"Not to mention more could be hiding in the wagon," I pointed out.

Valryn sat silent upon his horse; a puzzled look crept upon his face. He knew we needed to act fast before the caravan escaped.

"All right, I think we should just take down as many guards silently with our bows as we can. At least make the fight a bit easier," Valryn said. "Unless you have a better idea."

"Can't say I do," I told Valryn as I drew my bow and was already nocking an arrow into place. Valryn drew his soon after, and we were both taking aim at the guards surrounding the wagon.

I could feel the harsh breath of the wind brushing my face as Valryn and I took our aim at the guards. After a few seconds, Valryn gave the word, and our arrows glided gracefully through the air. I smiled as I saw two guards drop dead to the ground. The rest of the guards were now panicked, and they were struggling to keep the merchants from running away.

"We're under attack!" I heard one guard shout. "I want the heads of whoever's responsible!"

Valryn and I chuckled as we readied our bows again and fired. Two more guards were sent to Oblivion, and after that my suspicions were confirmed correct: four guards came out from inside the wagon with their weapons in hand.

"Look! Up there!" another guard exclaimed, pointing at us. The whole group of guards were now charging at us furiously, and Valryn and I drew our swords; waiting with bated breaths for the fight that was now unavoidable.

I charged up a ball of flame in my left hand and unleashed it upon our foes. Another guard dropped limp to the ground. As the guards now stood before us, I immediately noticed that we had an advantage. The guards were being weighed down quite a bit by their armor, and the snow surrounding us was quite thick, so the movement of the guards would be slowed down significantly. Me and Valryn on the other hand were wearing only leather armor, and this would allow us to move with ease.

A guard swung at me with his sword, and I easily dodged the strike by leaping to the side. The guard and I clashed our blades several times; the sharp cling of the steel rang throughout the air. In an unexpected move, the guard raised his boot to my torso and sent me tumbling to the ground. He raised his sword, and I rolled out of the way as his sword missed me by mere inches and planted in the frozen snow. Seizing my chance, I leaped behind the guard and drove my sword straight through his back. I saw Valryn kill another guard almost that exact same moment.

Valryn and I stood back to back, and the remaining guards stood on both sides of us. They were hesitant to make a move; we were proving to be a tougher fight than they had imagined. I shot another burst of flame as a distraction, and I was able to impale another guard through the chest as he lost his footing.

"Enough of this! Kill them already!" one guard yelled at the others. The remaining guards all attacked us at once, and one even managed to land a blow right to my face which sent me to the ground. I kicked the guard before he could hurt me further and I was able to get back onto my feet. The same guard swung his blade at me and I ducked out of the way. The weight of his armor threw him off balance, and I plunged my blade through the back of his neck as he staggered.

The last remaining guard stood breathless and horrified that we actually managed to kill his entire squad of men. Valryn and I swung our swords at him and each lopped off one of his arms. We initially wanted to kill him right there, but we decided it would be more satisfying to just leave him there and let him bleed out. We began to approach the wagon which was now abandoned, and we climbed into the back where our eyes were greeted by several chests.

"Jack. Pot!" Valryn shouted as he opened a chest full of gems and jewelry. I opened a chest that was filled with several swords as well as ingots. Opening more chests, we found several well-made suits of armor, and a few of the chests were even filled to the brim with gold.

"Ol' Galthar will be pleased with this!" Valryn said excitedly. "Let's get this back to the fort right away." Valryn sat on the driver's side and took the reins while I sat next to him.

The wagon was moving at a hurried pace as we swiftly traversed our way through the forest. The wagon swerved several times as the horses moved to dodge tree branches and other obstructions. In the distance, I could hear the sound of other horses approaching behind us.

"Shit, looks like we got company Drelas!" Valryn shouted as he spurred the horses faster.

I stood up to get a better view, and I immediately saw three more guards on horses quickly catching up to us. I knew we couldn't mess this up now; we had to drive them off and defend the wagon.

"Keep driving," I told Valryn. "I'll hold them off."

I made my way to the back of the wagon and drew my bow. I readied an arrow, but I struggled to keep a steady aim due to the bumping of the wagon against the rough terrain. I fired my arrow, but unfortunately it missed, and I was knocked onto my back as we came over a rather large bump.

"Hey Valryn, how about _not _hitting every single fucking bump in the road?!" I shouted with much frustration.

"I'm trying!" the Dunmer shouted back.

I nocked another arrow into place, and eventually I was able to steady my aim. I released my arrow into the air, and one of the guards plummeted off his horse to the ground. The other two guards sped up, and I could see one of them drawing his bow. I took cover behind one of the chests as we crossed yet another huge bump, and I was startled as I heard the sound of the guard's arrow hitting the wood of the chest. My heart was beating faster than these horses were running. Fatigue and anxiety were building up inside me, threatening to devour me whole like some monstrous beast. A guard got close enough to the back of the wagon, and he was able to jump inside to where I was.

The guard immediately leaped on top of me, preventing me from drawing my sword. He brandished a knife, and I gripped his hand as he tried to bring it down to my throat. I struggled to keep his arm away from me as the knife drew closer to my throat. I struck the guard in his abdomen with my knee which sent him tumbling backwards. I drew my sword to kill the guard, but he sprang upwards and was able to knock me back down. In a desperate move, I kicked the guard in his nether region. He began to fall toward me, and I held the tip of my blade upwards. The guard yelped in pain as his body was impaled by my sword when he fell, and he died only seconds later. I lifted the dead guard off of me and tossed his limp corpse from the back of the wagon.

I looked at the last remaining guard on his horse. I was expecting to perhaps go through the same thing with him, but to my amazement he rode away instead. It was then that I saw we were approaching Fort Blackmoon. The guard must have figured we were headed there, and he knew it would be suicide to keep chasing us. I also realized that if he was allowed to escape and report back to his superiors on our location, that could spell trouble for us later. I swiftly readied an arrow as he rode further away. I took a brief moment to steady my shot, and seconds later the guard tumbled from his horse as my arrow struck him in the back.

I made my way back to the front of the wagon and sat back down next to Valryn. He finally brought the wagon to a halt as we were now at the fort, and we both took a massive breath of relief.

"Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Valryn asked with a smirk on his face.

"Yeah, when you're not the one fending off three pissed guards by yourself. Asshole," I retorted, and the Dark Elf simply chuckled.

"You were a killer out there Sargoth. I know you were under a lot of pressure, and you couldn't have handled it better. There's nobody I would have rather done this with. Good job, friend," Valryn praised me, and we hit our fists together and laughed for a moment.

"You can just chill out and relax if you want. I'll tell Galthar of our success," Valryn said as we walked to the fort. "By Azura that was rough. What I need right now is a good bar wench to fuck."

I laughed at Valryn's comment. I was just glad to have gotten through that whole ordeal alive. I took a seat upon the steps leading to the fort, and I pulled out the pipe that Jari had given me and lit up some moon sugar. I could almost immediately begin to feel my entire body relax as I took my first few puffs of the wondrous drug. My mind felt like a giant weight was being lifted from it as all my troubles began to melt away like snow being washed away by the first spring rain. I closed my eyes and allowed my body to be overtaken by tranquility.

"Sargoth!" I opened my eyes and I could see Anora dashing toward me with a huge smile on her face. She was exactly what I needed to see right now. We wrapped our arms around each other in a tight embrace, and she even landed a friendly peck on my cheek which made my spine tingle with glee.

"I'm so glad you're back," she said with relief. "I heard you and Valryn ran into some trouble with that caravan." Anora's embrace was warmer than even the hottest summer day, and I could feel the pain in my body rapidly subsiding.

"It was a close one, I'll admit. Nothing me and Valryn couldn't handle though," I told her with a hint of arrogance to my voice, and she seemed impressed as her green eyes lit up.

"Well, I think we should get a couple drinks, and I want you to tell me everything that happened," Anora said with much eagerness to her voice.

We made our way to the lounge where a few of the others were already unwinding. Rasha was sweeping the floor, and I could see Soren and Torgron sitting across the room slightly inebriated. Jari was sitting by himself at a table. He was alternating between his pipe of moon sugar and his tankard, spending a few seconds with each one before switching to the other. Anora and I sat at a table close to the bar, and Rasha brought us both mugs of mead. We spent the next hour drinking together while I proudly recalled to her the tale of me and Valryn's adventure that day. The woman was laughing as I flailed my arms, imitating the motions of swinging a sword and shooting a bow. I felt pride surging through me that moment as I retold every detail to Anora, and hearing her cute giggles made me feel peaceful and ecstatic.

After downing a couple more mugs of mead, I felt fatigue beginning to overtake me, and I made my way to my room. I sat down on my bed and lit the candle which sat on the end table. I looked around for several moments, and it was then that I saw the hooded figure of Moon sitting in the exact same spot she was when I first met her.

"Oh, hey Moon. Something I can do for you?" I asked, slightly irritated by her sudden intrusion, but I hid my feelings as to not piss her off.

"You're hurt," was all the hooded woman said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, rather confused.

Moon pointed to my right arm, and I lifted up the sleeve of my tunic and saw a long, deep gash that ran almost the entire length of my arm. I had no idea how I didn't notice that before; there was still a small amount of blood pouring from it.

"By Azura, how the hell did I miss that?" I said as I touched the wound lightly.

Moon stood up from her seat, and she walked toward me. She took hold of the wounded arm. Her touch was cold, but gentle at the same time, and after flinching initially, I was able to relax as Moon began examining the cut.

Moon didn't do anything for several seconds, and I began to wonder what exactly she was doing. Suddenly, she raised her right hand, and I could see a bright, amber-colored glow beginning to emit from her palm. She brought the vibrant light closer to me, and she then proceeded to lay her hand on top of my arm. A stinging sensation struck me at first, but it was soon replaced by a cool, refreshing feeling of pleasure. I could see the wound beginning to close almost immediately, and the blood was drying up as well. Moon was breathing heavily, and I could tell she was in deep concentration. After a minute, the wound had vanished entirely, and it was then that I realized Moon had just used a healing spell. My arm felt good as new, and I felt no pain as I ran my fingers across the skin.

"Wow, thank you. It feels much better," I said with much appreciation.

"Rest," was all Moon said, and she left the room afterwards.

* * *

I awoke the next morning feeling refreshed and energized. My sleep was most restful, and I wondered if perhaps Moon's spell had something to do with it. I slipped into a casual outfit and made my way to the lounge. The aroma of a freshly cooked meal greeted my nostrils, and I could see that Rasha had made breakfast for all of us. The Redguard handed me a plate, and I took a seat next to Anora who was already halfway through her meal.

"Morning!" I said as I took my seat. Anora looked up, and her eyes sparkled as she saw me.

"Good morning to _you_!" she replied as I took the first bites of my meal. "You sleep well last night?"

"I did, actually. Thank you," I answered her.

The two of us sat in silence for a while as we both enjoyed the scrumptious food that Rasha had made. The sounds of the others chatting and laughing around us filled my ears, and I was filled with joy and contentment as Anora and I gazed longingly into each other's eyes.

"Hey, Sargoth," Anora began to speak. "I was thinking of going over to Bruma today, would you care to join me?" she asked as I swallowed another morsel of my breakfast.

"I'd love to Anora," I replied, and I could see her face glowing with delight. "What are you going there for?"

"It's been forever since I've done some burglary. I just want to make sure I haven't gotten rusty. It's been far too long since I've felt that rush of breaking into a house," the woman answered, and I grinned at her reply.

"Come to think of it, it's been a while for me too. It'll feel good to relieve a couple rich pigs of their valuables." Anora giggled at my reply, and she finished the last bites of her breakfast. I was definitely yearning to climb through some snotty rich man's window again, but the truth was, I wanted to be alone with Anora. I had never actually gone on a real job with her yet, and I thought it would maybe be a good time to tell her how I felt about her. I would feel less pressured without everyone else around, and maybe, just maybe, she would tell me that she was feeling the exact same way. I could picture us now in a tavern, laughing away like children as we celebrated the success of our mission. A couple pints of mead had already passed our throats, and I would then reveal to her everything I was feeling, and hopefully she would respond positively.

I was lost for a moment within my thoughts until Anora's voice brought me back to reality.

"We'll leave in about half an hour. So get everything you need, and I'll meet you by the stables when I'm ready to go," Anora told me.

"Sounds good." I finished my meal and then headed to my room. I slipped on my black leather armor that I had chosen from one of the mannequins. It sat firm and secure against my form; it was padded all throughout to provide me with moderate protection, but also light enough to allow me swift movement. There were countless pockets stitched into the cuirass and pants, which obviously came in handy for thieves like me. I strapped my sword and scabbard to my belt, and I slung my bow around my shoulder. I grabbed my quiver which was full of new arrows, and I then made my way outside to the stables. I was elated that I was going on a real mission with the woman I was crushing so hard on.

Sure enough, there was Anora standing by a white horse outside the stables. The horse was smaller than the others to accommodate Anora's petite figure. She gracefully ascended the steed and adjusted the saddle. Her hair was braided into pigtails which ran down both sides of her face; her green eyes glowing brighter than the morning sunlight.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Ready," I answered her, and with that, we galloped away on our horses into the sun which stared intently at the two of us.

* * *

The journey to Bruma took us about half a day. The air was warm, and there were still leaves of a crimson color falling from the trees which had small amounts of frost on them. The only sound that could be heard was the hooves of our horses as they swiftly crossed through the snow. Anora and I exchanged light-hearted banter the entire ride there. We smiled and laughed as we told each other glorious tales of the adventures we had been through so far in our lives. I cherished every second of that journey, and I was enjoying listening to Anora go on about herself and getting to know her more. I felt comfortable around her, like I could drop my guard and just be myself. I had never met anyone who was so kind and open with me before, and I could feel a bond growing between us which grew stronger with every passing second.

After several hours of playfully chatting with one another, I saw the snow-covered city of Bruma looming on the horizon. The sun was retreating as dusk approached; the sky was shining a light greenish color as night drew closer. Anora and I made it to the stables and left our steeds with the others. We paid a small fee to the owner, and the two of us approached the iron gates to Bruma and stepped inside after pushing them open.

My eyes were immediately greeted by the wooden, but sturdy houses that lined the snowy streets of Bruma. I could see the large castle standing above the rest of the city, and the chapel which stood proud. Almost all the buildings of the city were covered in thin white snow; the clear crystals glistening under the watchful gaze of the twin moons that were rising in the evening sky. The streets were mostly empty save for a handful of guards who were patrolling and keeping watch. Anora and I just spent a few moments walking through the frigid streets, taking in the beauty of everything around us.

"Well, I think its dark enough, and most of the commoners should be going to bed," I said as we came to a stop.

"I agree," Anora replied. "I always get butterflies in my stomach before doing these kinds of things. There's so much that can go wrong so quickly." I could see Anora beginning to tremble slightly, and I reached out and took her hand, holding it in mine. She turned her gaze to me and smiled.

"Don't worry, we've got each other's backs, remember?" I assured her, and I could see her starting to ease up. "If anything happens, we'll get through it together. I promise."

Anora hugged me for a brief moment before she spoke up. "I'm thinking maybe we should split up and hit different sections of the city. Maybe that will reduce our chances of getting caught." I nodded my head in agreement.

"Good idea. I'll get the houses in the lower half of the city, while you can take the higher ones," I said, and she nodded. "Remember, we're in this together. I'll be here for you if anything goes wrong." Anora's eyes glittered as she smiled, and we then went our separate ways into the city of Bruma.

I came to a house that was somewhat isolated from the rest, and I began to scan the area for the best point of entry. I noticed a small hatch which I presumed led to the basement.

The lock was poorly made and I was able to pick it open in seconds. I opened the hatch and sure enough, I found myself in a dusty basement. Barrels were stacked along the walls, and I saw several cobwebs hanging off the ceiling. I could see a few wine racks which were lined with different brands of alcoholic drinks. I opened a few chests, but found nothing of value. I snuck my way upstairs in a low crouch, and I picked open the door which led to the main floor of the house.

Directly across from me, I could see two display cases which contained gems and several gleaming necklaces. After a couple broken picks, I was able to get both cases open, and I quickly stuffed the goods into my pockets. I also spotted a few circlets sitting atop a shelf, as well as some rare potions. Slipping those into my cuirass, I saw a strongbox sitting among some books on another shelf. I picked it open and nabbed the emerald ring sitting inside of it. I decided I had spent long enough in this house, and I left the same way I came. Coming back onto the streets, I saw that night had fully arrived, and I now had the aid of the shadows to conceal me from the watchful guards.

I must have hit about five or six houses that night, and I only broke a few picks. I struck big that night, and I sent a silent prayer to Nocturnal for my amazing luck. I came upon thousands of septims worth of goods in every house I hit; my pockets were actually running out of space to put everything. I searched every nook and cranny for hidden goods as I crept swiftly and silently like a mouse through house after house. The adrenaline rushing through my veins grew stronger with every item I stole; the thrill burning inside me like an inferno engulfing a forest. I had never been more proud of myself my entire life, and I was disappointed when I realized my pockets could hold no more. I figured I must have been carrying at least ten thousand septims worth of stolen goods though, and I felt satisfied with all the loot I had obtained. I decided it was time to find Anora and see how she had made out.

I made my way up a set of stairs to the upper half of the city. As I walked, I could hear the sound of voices beginning to grow closer. I slowly moved closer to the source of the voices, and it was then that I heard a cry which I instantly recognized as Anora's. I quickened my pace as I began to panic; I knew immediately that she was in trouble. I turned a corner of one of the large houses, and I saw that Anora had not been nearly as successful as I was.

Anora had been apprehended by two guards who were standing menacingly over her. She was trying to remain calm, but I could see her shaking, and I knew she was frightened. I took cover behind a wall as I knew that the guards would call for backup if I were to challenge them.

"Well, what do we have here?" I heard a guard say with a sneering tone of voice.

"I caught this little vixen tryin to steal from the chapel, I did," I heard the other guard say. "The Divines don't smile on thievin little harlots like you, my dear." I peeked my head around the corner, and I saw the guard who just spoke pull out a pair of shackles. He proceeded to chain Anora's hands behind her back, and I saw her quiver at his touch.

"She's a cute little thing ain't she?" the other guard said. A flame of rage burned inside me as I saw him running his fingers across Anora's face. He brought his hand down lower and started groping the woman's trembling body.

"Stop…please!" Anora begged.

"Ah, she does talk!" the guard said as he reached his hand down Anora's tunic and began fondling her.

"Where's your friend, little thief?" the other guard asked.

"What…what friend?" Anora answered.

"Don't be coy with me, little girl," the guard who was groping her said.

"You know what we do to thieves here?" the other guard spoke up. "We hang em, nice and slow. We wrap the noose nice and tight around their neck, and we leave em there dangling as they gasp, desperate for a breath of air. They'll struggle fruitlessly as the rope strangles the very life from them." The guard was snickering as he spoke.

"So we'll ask again. Where's your fucking friend?!" the other guard asked in frustration.

"I came alone. There's no one else," Anora answered, still shaking.

One of the guards struck her straight across the face and sent her tumbling to the ground. A spark of fury ignited inside me, and I had to fight every urge to not charge them right then.

"Don't you fucking lie to me little bitch!" the guard bellowed as he grabbed Anora and forced her back on her feet.

"What'll we do with her?" the other guard asked.

"Oh, I reckon a good day or two in the Bruma dungeons will make her see things our way. If she knows what's good for her," the guard said menacingly. "If not, well, the torture chamber has a way of making people talk." Both guards were laughing as Anora stood silent.

"I think we're gonna have _loads_ of fun with her," the other guard said, and I saw Anora shudder at his words.

"Come on thief. Let's see how you fare in a cold, dank jail cell."

I cursed myself for allowing this to happen. I should have tried to find Anora sooner. I shouldn't have stayed separated from her for as long as I did. The thrill that was previously inside me was now replaced by fear and worry. I didn't even want to imagine what those guards were going to do to Anora. I knew I had to come up with something and rescue her, but what could I do? How would I get in the castle undetected? How would I get all the way to the dungeons without anyone seeing me? My heart pounded, and my mind raced. All I could do now was simply stand and watch helplessly as the guards marched Anora to the castle.


	16. Rescue

**A/N: This chapter honestly just wrote itself pretty much. It's definitely the one I had the most fun writing so far, and I hope you enjoy it. There is a torture scene, just to make you aware, and I get a bit descriptive with the violence. But I guess that just comes with being a death metal fan :) A big thank you to everyone who has read the story up to this point.**

**Anyways, without further ado, here is the next chapter.**

* * *

"How can you be sure that there's another one?"

"I know I saw two of them walk through that gate. The little bitch we arrested ain't talkin to us right now, but I know for a fact she had a companion with her, most likely male."

I could overhear the voices of two guards speaking as I sat crouched in the shadows behind one of the large mansions in the streets of Bruma. I could still feel my heart throbbing madly inside of me; my insides felt like someone had taken their hand and was slowly ripping them out from my stomach. I felt like I was being swallowed alive by my anxiety. Thoughts were racing through my mind faster than a fierce gale blowing in the midst of a violent storm. I was desperately trying to conceive a plan to break into the castle dungeons and rescue Anora, but I knew that I was going to have to proceed carefully, lest I end up behind bars as well. I could not force myself to calm down however; I still couldn't help but feel it was my fault that Anora got arrested. I had never felt more helpless in my entire life than when I was forced to watch those guards grope and handle her like she was nothing more than a piece of meat. Seeing that guard hit her, and watching her hit the ground had sent a seething rage through me that struck me like a flash of lightning, and burned with the fury of a ferocious firestorm.

I heard the hoot of an owl as it landed in a tree a few feet away from me. The calming notes sent a chill through my spine as they echoed into the distant reaches of the night sky. I could see the glimmering light of the thousands of stars sitting in the sky, glowing like balls of fire. A bright and vibrant aurora of a light bluish-green color could be seen radiating on the far horizon as Masser and Secunda shone their piercing and illuminating gaze onto the world like watchful eyes. The streets of Bruma were empty and silent, save for the clanking footsteps of the guards that were now on the lookout for me. They knew that Anora didn't come here alone; that she had an accomplice. Judging from the guards' conversation though, it seemed like they didn't get a good look at my face, and therefore had no idea what I looked like. So at least I had that small advantage, and if I were going to have any hope of getting Anora out of Bruma safely, I was going to have to use it.

I had no idea how long it had been since Anora was arrested. Minutes? Hours? Everything had happened so fast, everything had felt like a blur as my mind barely had time to process what had happened. I still couldn't believe that all of this was actually happening. This was supposed to be a simple burglary job; it was supposed to be an opportunity for us to hone our skills after having been out of the game for a while. It was supposed to be a chance for Anora and me to get to know each other better and grow closer to one another. For that was the true reason I had even come in the first place. Anora had been like a sister to me since the moment we first met on the day I joined the Crimson Serpents. She had shown me unconditional friendship and warmth; she was always ready to lend a hand when I needed it. Despite having only known each other for a short time, I knew that I was already falling for her. There was nothing on Nirn that I wouldn't have done for her, and she for me. Now, I was going to have to stay true to that. I had an obligation, both as Anora's friend and her brother to rescue her from that dungeon and get her back home.

"All right," one of the guards spoke again. "Get some more men on the streets. I don't want her friend slipping through our fingers. Those scum think they can rob the good people of this town. I'll see them hanged for their crimes," the guard said in a stern tone of voice. I could feel my heart finally slowing down and my breath steadying as the guards began to walk away. I knew that panicking was going to get me nowhere in this situation. I was going to have to remain calm and collected if I was going to pull this off.

Although I was still unsure of how exactly I would get inside the castle, once I was finally able to collect my thoughts, I was confident I would think of something. I still had the shadows of the night to shield me from the eyes of the guards. As long as I was cautious and didn't do anything stupid, the guards were unlikely to spot me. In a low crouched position, I slowly moved away from the spot in which I was hiding and began to make my way toward Castle Bruma.

The snow on the ground made a soft rustling sound as I stealthily crept my way through the city. Despite there being no breeze that night, the air was still cold and I could feel a slight amount of frost forming in my facial hair. As I drew closer to the castle I could hear the sound of footsteps as more guards emerged from the castle and onto the lonely streets. My stomach churned as a few of the guards unsheathed their blades; the sharp ring of their steel oppressing my ears. I took cover in a nearby bush as the clanking steps approached closer and closer to me. I struggled to keep my stress from overtaking me completely. I felt like my mind was being eaten alive; my sanity slipping away into a dark and endless abyss. I felt like a tiny, helpless mouse being chased by a pack of feral and famished sabre cats. Any moment I would feel their razor sharp claws digging into my back; their teeth ripping into my throat. I had to muster every ounce of strength and courage within me to keep my composure. I was going to do this, no matter what the cost. Anora was my friend and sister; there was no way in Oblivion I was going to leave her at the mercy of these guards. Just the mere thought of her alone and frightened in a jail cell was enough for me to brush aside my fear, enough for me to find the courage to press forward. I owed this to Anora. She could have easily ratted me out; she could have told the guards where I was. She could have even perhaps negotiated her own freedom if she helped the guards in capturing me. But she didn't. She lied. She lied to the guards; she lied to protect me. She refused to divulge any information about me, despite knowing the danger she would be placing herself in. No, I couldn't leave her here to rot. I had to get her out somehow. I was going to do anything it took to save her; I was ready to pay any price.

I heard the guards mutter something I couldn't quite make out, and then they started walking away from where I was hiding. Once I was certain the coast was clear, I emerged from the cover of the bushes and continued to sneak my way toward the castle. I brushed a few of the needle-shaped leaves from the bush off my leather armor, and it was then that I could fully make out the mighty structure of the castle standing before me. The snow that rested upon the grey stones of the castle glistened under the gaze of the twin moons. A tall, looming archway stood before me like a giant that led into the main courtyard of the castle. A couple bushes could be seen spread throughout the courtyard, most of their pine leaves had blown off from the autumn weather. I could see a snow-covered garden a couple feet to the side of the main doors to the castle; the walls were draped with several yellow banners bearing the crest of the city: a large, black bird with its wings and talons spread wide open.

I had no time to admire the scenery however. My mind was focused on one thing, and one thing only. If everything went smoothly, I would hopefully be in the castle for no longer than ten minutes, and me and Anora would be far away from this city. To my surprise, there were no guards in the vicinity of the courtyard; I figured since most of them were on the street looking for me then perhaps the dungeon would be lightly guarded. I crept silently across the courtyard to a lone door sitting atop a small set of stairs. As I set my hand on the knob, I braced myself for what I might find on the other side of that door. I knew that absolutely anything could be waiting for me in that castle, and all my efforts at trying to remain unseen would have been wasted. I knew full well that I could have been walking into a trap, that perhaps the guards were expecting me to break into the castle. I didn't care. I was going to get Anora out of there; I was ready to kill every single fucking guard in that castle if that's what it took to rescue her and bring her home. I knew that I was risking getting myself into a full-blown battle by doing this, but my mind was so focused on my mission, so focused on rescuing my friend that I completely ignored those risks. The possibility of my imprisonment, or even my death didn't cross my mind even once that moment. The only thing I could think about was succeeding in my mission, and absolutely nothing was going to stop me. Nothing.

* * *

I slowly and quietly twisted the knob on the door and began to push it open. The door made a creaking sound as I nudged it further open and stepped inside the castle. After shutting the door again behind me, I turned around, and I knew immediately that I was in a guard barracks. The room reeked of stale mead and I could hear the loud snoring of the guards as they slept. I knew that if I made even the slightest sound, or took even a single misstep, that the slumbering guards would all be awake within seconds, and my whole plan would be ruined. I stood still for a moment to take in my surroundings, and also to avoid making any hasty moves. There was a table sitting in front of me that had several liquor stains from spilled bottles. A few plates with mostly half-eaten meals were scattered along the table's surface along with some goblets. To my left was a staircase which led up to the main sleeping quarters of the guards. To my right was a door, which I assumed behind it was the way that would lead me downstairs to the dungeons.

The snoring of the guards could still be heard clearly as I contemplated my next move. I began to quietly reach my hand into my pouch for something that could possibly be of use. As I shuffled through the pouch, it was then that I remembered that I had stolen a potion of invisibility from one of the houses I broke into. I could feel the glass bottle in my hand, and sure enough I had pulled out the tiny, silver vial. I took one swig of the liquid, and a cool sensation caressed me as my body became completely unseen to all mortal eyes.

I opened the door with one swift motion of my arm and quickly shut it behind me. I found myself in a small room with a desk and chair. Behind that was a chest which I immediately figured to be the evidence chest. Ahead of me was yet another door. Still in my low crouched position, I came up to it and realized that it was locked as I tried to turn the knob. I examined the lock closely for a brief moment, and I could see that it had been well made. I knew that this lock was above my skill level, and that I was going to have to get the actual key. I saw another room off to the side of the one I was in. Still invisible from the potion, I made my way inside, and I could see a lone guard pacing in front of the wall on the far end. He sat down in a chair with his back toward me, and it was then that my potion wore off, and I was visible once again.

"Can't believe those bastards got me workin a double shift tonight," the guard began muttering to himself. "Damn thieves. I hope they rot in Oblivion for makin me stay up this fuckin late. I should be in bed, restin my poor weary bones."

I slowly began making my way closer and closer to the guard. His mumbling did a good job of masking my already silent footsteps.

"I'm gonna get outta this dump someday," the guard began talking again. "Get a nice, quiet place in the woods. Marry a pretty woman, maybe have a couple kids. Just live in peace, away from all this crap." I drew my sword as I approached the guard; I was merely inches away from him now. "Bloody hell, whoever this other thief is, I hope he shows himself soon."

"Careful what you wish for," I said as I raised my blade and held it against the guard's neck. He froze in shock, and I could hear his breaths increasing in pace as he panicked. "Throw your sword on the ground, now!" I ordered, and he complied.

"You….you're the one we're looking for. You're the cause of all our troubles tonight," the guard said in clear frustration.

"You arrested my friend and are holding her here in the dungeon. I'm gonna get her out, and you're gonna help me," I told him sternly.

"Who, that little Elf bitch? Yeah, we got her down there. She's a cute lookin thing, I'll say. You wouldn't really take her away from us before we even got a chance to have a little fun with her, would you?" the guard said mockingly, and I tightened the blade against his neck.

"Watch that tongue, cause I'll gladly cut it out," I said. "Take me downstairs. Don't try anything funny, and I might consider not killing you." With my blade still against the guard, he began to walk in front of me and we both made our way to the dungeon. He unlocked the door which led downstairs, and I pushed him forward with my hand as we descended the steps.

"You'll never get away with this," said the guard.

"If you want to live, you'll make sure I do," I replied.

The guard led me into the room where all the cells were. The room was dark as a tunnel; the only source of lighting being a few torches hung upon the walls. I looked through the rusted bars of the jail doors and saw a few prisoners sitting in the different cells, but no sign of Anora.

"Where is she?!" I demanded.

"Over here," the guard answered. We headed to the left side of the room over to a cell at the end of the wall. The guard and I were both standing in front of the cell, and sure enough, there was Anora. I instantly felt relief wash over me at seeing her.

"Sargoth! You came!" she yelled in excitement; her eyes glowing like sunlight as she lifted her head and saw me. Her hands were shackled to the wall; she was wearing tattered rags that were barely covering her private regions. "You really came for me!"

"Of course I came, Anora. You didn't really think I was going to leave you here alone, did you?" I asked with a slight tease. She laughed, and I could see tears of joy sparkling on her beautiful face. I looked at the guard again. "Unlock the cell and let her out. You do one thing I don't like, and you're gonna become familiar with what a sword tastes like."

The guard grunted for a moment, but he did obey my command. He pulled out a ring of keys and began sifting through them. There was a tinkling sound from the metallic keys jingling together as the guard sorted through them. I was still holding the tip of my blade close to his throat; I was expecting him to double-cross me any second. But he didn't, and after a few seconds he found the key he was looking for and unlocked the cell. I then motioned for him to open the door. He stepped inside the cell and released Anora from the shackles holding her to the wall. She dropped to the floor for a second, and I ran over to her to help stand her up as she steadied herself. We both walked out of the jail cell with the guard following closely behind us. I looked over and saw him starting to walk away.

"Where do you think _you're_ going?!" I asked with anger in my voice. "You're not done yet. Now you're gonna lead us both out of here." The guard grunted again, and I looked over at Anora. "You all right?" I asked her softly.

"Yeah. I'm f…I'm fine," she answered. I saw several dark, swollen bruises on her arms as well as on her left cheek where she was struck by the guards who arrested her.

"I'm sorry, Anora. I'm so, so sorry I let this happen to you," I said, and she looked up at me.

"No, don't blame yourself, Sargoth. This is in _no_ way your fault," said Anora in an attempt to comfort me and ease my guilt. "I was careless. I neglected to watch my surroundings; I blatantly ignored the rules of proper thievery, and I paid the price. I shouldn't have let my greed take over my perception. Please, _please_ don't blame yourself. This is my mistake, and the fault lies with me alone." She cupped my cheek with her hand, and I let out a slight smile at her words. I was just glad that she was all right, but despite her saying it wasn't my fault, I still couldn't help but feel that I was somewhat responsible for her capture.

Anora and I gazed into each other's eyes, just like we did when we first met. Despite the situation, despite the danger we both knew we were in; we stared longingly into each other's eyes. All the worries and anxieties that plagued me simply ceased to be in that moment, and were instead replaced by comfort, and also yearning. My stomach was fluttering like it always did whenever she looked at me like that, and that truly would have been a perfect moment if we weren't standing in a damp, musty dungeon in the basement of a castle.

I moved my head closer to hers, and she followed suit. This was the moment I had been waiting for since the day I met her. I just wanted to hold Anora in my arms and kiss her forever. I just wanted to shut out everything else in the world, shut out reality itself, and embrace this woman in a never-ending moment of love and passion. I felt like we were in our own little world that moment; like everything else had simply ceased to exist. Our lips moved closer and closer to each other's, but it was that moment that my ears were greeted with the sound of footsteps approaching the dungeon, and I was suddenly pulled back to reality.

I ran to the doorway, and immediately I could see a group of five guards coming toward us. I drew my sword by blind instinct, although I seriously doubted if Anora and I would be able to take them on, especially considering Anora's condition. The guards all stopped in front us, swords drawn. One of them was without a helmet, and he also wielded a monstrous claymore in both his hands. I assumed this was the Captain. He stepped toward me and let out a menacing laugh. I turned back around, and the guard whom I forced to help me brandished a hidden dagger from his belt. He grabbed Anora with his left hand and held the dagger to her throat with his right. She struggled to escape from the guard's grasp, but to no avail.

"Take one step closer grey-skin, and she'll bleed like a stuck pig!" the guard shouted. Anora quivered at the guard's touch, but I looked at her and urged her to calm down, and she was able to regain her composure.

"My my, how the tables have turned," the Captain said with a sneer. "I knew that you would come here for your little friend eventually. If we weren't able to find you on the street, I knew we would be able to get you instead just by waiting for you to make a pathetic rescue attempt. Turns out I couldn't have been more correct," the Captain said with another laugh. He sheathed his weapon and motioned for the other guards to do the same.

"Where did you come from?" he asked me. I raised my blade to strike him, but he was able to disarm me with one swift movement of his arm. Two of the guards next to him then came behind me and grabbed both my arms.

"I would highly advise against trying to do that again, Dark Elf," the Captain said with a smug tone of voice. "I'm going to ask you some questions, and it would be very much in your best interest to answer them truthfully, because your little friend here is going to suffer for it if you don't." The Captain nodded to the guard holding Anora, and he proceeded to strap her to a table in the middle of the room. I struggled against the guards holding my arms, but their grip was much too tight to escape from.

"If you cooperate and don't give us any trouble, your friend will not experience any pain, and I might even spare you both a death sentence," the Captain spoke up again. I was turned around to face Anora who was struggling uselessly against the restraints holding her to the blooded table. "Without further ado, let us begin. First question: from where did you come?"

I stared at the captain with pure malice and hatred in my crimson eyes. All I could focus on was that guard standing over Anora, holding that dagger in his hand like a little child with a new toy.

"I'm waiting, Elf," the Captain said, and I shot him an angry glare.

"Don't tell him anything!" Anora said.

The Captain continued to stare me down expecting an answer from me. Instead, I simply spit in his arrogant face.

"Have it your way," said the Captain as he wiped his face with his arm. He nodded to the guard standing over Anora, and he proceeded to make a long, slow incision down the length of her left arm with his dagger. Anora let out a sharp yelp of pain, and the guard held his other hand over her mouth.

I was absolutely infuriated by the guards' callous disregard for Anora's pain and suffering. I was tempted to just tell them everything they wanted to know to make them stop hurting her, but Anora was insistent on me not answering them. I was also not going to risk endangering the rest of the Crimson Serpents. I could feel my brain throbbing inside my head; I was desperately trying to come up with something, anything, to get us out of this predicament.

"I see you are choosing to do this the hard way. So be it," the Captain said, and he then walked over to the bleeding Anora. "How about you, little lassie? Will _you_ tell me what I want to know? Do you have more common sense than your friend here?" the Captain asked as he ran his fingers along the woman's abdomen.

"Burn in Oblivion you pig!" Anora retorted. The Captain grunted in frustration, and the guard with the dagger drove it through her right shoulder and began slowly twisting the blade into her flesh as the blood came pouring out.

Anora tried her hardest not to scream so as to not give the guards the satisfaction, but a small, painful shriek escaped her lips. The Captain gave a sadistic laugh before turning to face me again.

"Your stubbornness is valiant," the Captain said. "Foolish, but valiant. Resistance shall get you nowhere. I would hate to kill such a beautiful creature like your friend here, but I won't hesitate to do so if you continue to try my patience." Rage was festering inside of me with every second, threatening to explode at any moment. Anora was bleeding heavily from her wounds; it was almost like I could feel her pain within myself. Every ounce of pain inflicted onto her felt like it was being inflicted onto me as well.

"Hang in there Anora," I tried to encourage her. "I promise I'm going to get us out of this."

"I don't know why you are being so adamant in resisting me," said the Captain. "All I want is for you to tell me where you came from and who you're working for. Your friend's suffering can end right now if you'll just cooperate with me." I still refused to comply, and I spat in his face again.

"As you wish," he said, wiping his face again.

The guard lifted up Anora's ragged tunic and grabbed a sharp hook-shaped object. He placed the tip onto her exposed stomach, and began to scrape it across the width of her torso. He drove the tool deeper into her flesh as he sliced her open; I turned my head away as I couldn't bear to watch my friend suffer like this. Anora let out several shrieks of pain, and I once again attempted to break free of the guards' grip on me.

The guards were able to hold me back, and the Captain proceeded to punch me in the face. The steel of his gauntlet sent a sharp, throbbing pain throughout me. He raised his leather boot and kicked me in the stomach several times. I collapsed to my knees on the floor; the guards still gripping my arms tightly.

"Don't touch him!" Anora shouted. After everything the guards had done to her, Anora was still more concerned with my well-being than her own. If that isn't a sign of a devoted friend, then I don't know what is. I slowly brought myself back to my feet; the pain in my stomach was still throbbing violently. I knew I had to think of something fast. Anora would bleed to death from her wounds, and the guards would dispose of me shortly after. It was a matter of life and death now, and my next move would be the deciding factor on which one it was going to be. As my stomach continued to ache, an idea suddenly sprung into my head. I wasn't sure if it would work or not, but considering the dire circumstances, I had no time to think about such things. If I simply stood there and did nothing, Anora and I would both be dead very shortly. My idea carried potential risk, as all ideas do, but at least by trying we would have a small shot at escaping. In my mind, that made this an easy decision to make. I had to try. I had to at least try and get us out of this.

I closed my eyes and began to focus all my rage, all my built up anger, all my energy within myself. My mind was sharper than a knife that moment; all other thoughts evaporated like steam as I continued to concentrate. I could feel my anger beginning to boil like lava; my energy erupting like thunder amidst a raging storm. My face winced and contorted as I continued to focus; completely ignoring everything going on around me. This had to work. There was no way this plan could fail. I refused to let it happen. I didn't care how many guards there might have been, I didn't care that we were outnumbered. I was going to make every single one of them pay for hurting Anora like this.

After several more moments, my hatred and anger reached its boiling point. On the outside, I appeared weak and defeated, but on the inside, I was steaming like an erupting volcano. And it was in that moment that my entire body became engulfed in a burning blanket of fire. I had invoked the power of Ancestor's Wrath, the inborn ability of all Dunmer.

The two guards that were holding me were burnt to a crisp within seconds. I grabbed my blade off the floor and swiftly cut down two more guards before they could even react to what was happening. I then threw my sword at the guard torturing Anora, and impaled him right through the throat. The Captain fell to the floor in complete shock; I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air. I smiled with great pleasure as the wrath of my flames consumed his whole body. He struggled to breathe as I tightened my grip; I could see him suffocating from the smoke emitting off of me. His armor burnt away like rotted parchment. His flesh was lit aflame as he continued to struggle against my grip. The flames slowly trailed up his body, burning away all traces of skin and exposing his bones and muscles. Watching the Captain struggle and writhe in agony only strengthened my power, and I sneered as the skin on his face began to melt and drip onto the floor as his screams echoed through the halls of the dungeon. Blood red foam spewed from his mouth; his eyes melted into their sockets. My nostrils became filled with the putrid stench of his burning, decaying flesh. His cries of agony grew quieter as his life burned away; his face now unrecognizable. I sneered as the helpless Captain drew his final breaths, and only moments later, death overtook him. The Captain of the Bruma guard, who only minutes ago had us completely at his mercy; who held our very lives in the palm of his hand, was now nothing but a charred corpse. I snickered again as I looked upon his black, lifeless body. I then tossed it aside on the floor like the piece of trash he was.

The flames that surrounded me finally began to dissipate. I immediately felt overwhelmed with fatigue. That power used literally every ounce of energy I had within me; it's no wonder it can only be used once a day. After taking a moment to catch my breath, I walked over to Anora and loosened the bonds holding her to the table.

"You okay?" I asked Anora, and it was then I saw that she was still bleeding. I reached into my pouch and handed her a red vial containing a healing potion. "Take this." Anora downed the whole drink with one swig, and most of her cuts and bruises immediately began to vanish. She took a rag and started wiping herself off of all the blood which was rapidly drying up thanks to the potion. I saw her strength return to her, and she got up off the table and onto her feet soon after.

"Better?" I asked.

"Better," Anora replied. She wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace; I could feel her breath down my neck. "Thank you, Sargoth. I owe you my life," she said as we stood there holding each other. I was gently stroking her auburn hair as she buried her head in my chest. Her embrace was warmer than the sun itself; her presence more soothing than the softest lullaby.

"You owe me nothing, Anora. We're friends, and this is what friends do."

The pain within me began to subside; I could feel my energy quickly coming back to me. I wanted nothing more than for this intimate moment with Anora to last forever. But alas, I knew that we were still in danger; more guards would surely be on the way. This was unfortunately no time to bask in our affections. We had to get out of this castle and get out of this city.

"Are you good to fight?" I asked Anora.

"You bet I am," she chuckled softly. "I'm tougher than I look. I might be small, but it's gonna take more than a few cuts to stop me," she said sternly, and I smiled at her reply.

"I know where your gear is. We should get it before we leave," I said. I took a key ring from one of the dead guards and led Anora to the chest that contained all of her equipment. I unlocked the chest, and sure enough there was all her stuff, safe and sound.

Anora swiftly slipped into her leather armor and strapped her sword to her belt. She slung her bow and quiver over her shoulders, then she quickly undid the braids in her hair and her long, flowing locks fell loose against her slim figure.

"Let's kick some ass," was all she said, and I nodded in agreement.

I opened the door to the guard barracks and I saw that all the guards were already alerted to our presence.

"Hey, there they are! Kill them!" one of them commanded. The guards all drew their swords and began to charge at us. There were six in total.

Anora and I simultaneously drew our own blades and braced ourselves for the oncoming fight. I held my sword firm in my grasp as I saw the first guard approach with a large war hammer. I looked over, and it was then that I saw Anora climb onto the table in the middle of the room. She leaped high and gracefully in the air, and her sword landed square in the guard's neck. As the guard fell, the next one stepped back in surprise. Anora ran and spun elegantly through the air; twirling her blade like a tornado shredding the ground. She sliced the guard straight across his chest, and as he fell dead, another guard charged at her. He swung his blade at Anora, but she easily dodged his attack by leaping to the side. She did a forward roll on the ground until she was behind the guard. She swiped a dagger from the guard's belt and then slit his throat with his own weapon.

I couldn't believe Anora had just killed half the guards in that room so quickly. She was a small woman, and I saw then that she used that to her advantage. Her small size allowed her to dodge any attack almost effortlessly. Her light weight allowed her to move swiftly like the wind itself; her enemies barely had any time to anticipate her moves, and that was when she brought about their downfall. She was faster than anyone I had ever seen before; her strikes with a sword were as quick and precise as lightning. I knew now that these guards stood no chance against the two of us together.

"Save some for _me_ would ya?" I said to Anora.

"Help yourself," the woman replied.

I shot a few fireballs from my left hand bringing down one guard. I gracefully dodged the sword of the next guard, and I then sprung back up and decapitated him before he could react. The last remaining guard swung recklessly at me, and I jumped back through the air to dodge his strike. Our blades clashed several times as we swung at each other. I could see the fear in the guard's eyes; he wasn't expecting us to put up such a fight. I spun my sword in my hand and was able to knock the guard's weapon right out of his hand. I then saw Anora run up the stairs and climb onto the banister. She jumped in the air and landed on the guard's back. She plunged her sword right through the nape of his neck, and he instantly fell dead and limp to the floor. Anora then simply sheathed her sword and brushed her hair from her face.

"Remind me to never piss _you_ off," I said to her, and she chuckled.

"Let's get outta here. I wanna go home," said Anora.

* * *

We stepped outside back onto the streets of Bruma where my eyes were greeted with the sight of more guards waiting for us. Anora and I drew our weapon of choice: the bow, and we both nocked our arrows into place. Our arrows soared like eagles through the air, mercilessly bringing down any guard stupid enough to come at us. The twang of our bowstrings was like music to my ears; a song that brought death and blood. We made our way out of the courtyard, bringing down waves of guards as they continued to charge at us.

"This way!" I shouted as I pointed to the north gate. Anora brought down three more guards with her bow; their limp corpses hitting the ground like raindrops. Once we were certain there were no more guards in the area, we ran toward the gate until we eventually made it outside the city of Bruma.

Two guards were standing on the other side of the gate, and Anora and I made short work of them. We ran all the way to the stables where we swiftly mounted our horses and rode away at the speed of light.

I looked back as we got a short distance away from the city, and I could see two guards giving chase to us on their steeds. I knew that they would pursue us relentlessly and that they had to be dealt with right now. Anora was in front of me on her horse, and I was trailing her by only a few feet.

"You keep going. Get somewhere safe," I told her. "I'll deal with these two." Anora complied and kept riding as I stopped my horse and prepared myself to face the guards.

I drew my bow once again and readied an arrow. The persistence of these guards was beginning to annoy me. I released my arrow into the air, and I watched as a guard fell from his horse as the arrow struck him through the chest. The second guard drew his sword as he charged at me head-on slightly to my right side, and I followed suit. We both held our swords straight outward as we drew closer to one another, each of us hoping to knock the other off their horse. Finally our horses met each other, and we swung our blades. The clash of our steel rang through the air, and a sharp recoil vibrated through my hand. I spun my horse around, and I saw the guard riding at me again. This time when we met, I reached my hand out and tugged at the horse's reins. The guard was bucked off as the horse raised its hind legs, and he was sent tumbling to the ground. I jumped off my horse and got to the guard before he could get back up. I raised my foot in the air as he looked up at me, and I then brought it down against him with all my might, snapping his neck completely.

I got back on my horse and galloped away from the area to catch up with Anora. I rode deeper and deeper into the woods, spurring my horse as fast as its legs would carry it. I hoped Anora was all right and had gotten away safely. After riding for about five minutes, I came to a large clearing in the forest, and I could see Anora who was already dismounted from her horse.

"There you are!" she said eagerly. "Those guards dead?"

"You bet they are," I replied. "This should be a good spot to set up camp for the night. It's far enough away from the city that we shouldn't have to worry about being hassled by any more guards."

I started to get a small campsite set up. I just wanted to go to sleep and put this long night behind me.

"Sargoth…" Anora started to speak again. "I…I just wanted to say thank you. You know, for getting me out of that dungeon. I would surely be dead if it weren't for you. There are no words that can express how grateful I am to have you with me. Thank you so much," she said as that beautiful smile lit up her face once again.

"Don't mention it, really. You're my friend, Anora. I would go to the planes of Oblivion for you if I ever had to," I said to her.

"I would do the same for you, Sargoth. After what you did for me today, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you," Anora said as she hugged me again.

After setting up some tents and getting a fire lit, Anora and I just sat quietly, listening to the nocturnal creatures stirring in the distance. The sky was clear with thousands of twinkling stars shining like bright orbs. After about an hour, I felt sleep beginning to overtake me. We both laid down in our bedrolls; gazing into each other's eyes once more, as the shadows of the night lulled us into a deep, peaceful slumber.


	17. Song to the Moons & Stars

**A/N: This chapter took me a while to write as I got stuck several times. It also contains my first real attempt at a smut scene, so please forgive me if it's bad haha!**

**A thank you to everyone who's been reading. As always, feedback would be awesome, just so I have a general idea of how I'm doing and that sorta stuff. Anyway, here's the next chapter, and I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

The golden rays of the midday sun shone brightly in the light, blue sky. White clouds were sitting above me, accompanied by a faint amber-colored glow that emitted from the warm sun. The crystalline snow beneath my feet was sparkling like starlight; the tiny snowflakes that gracefully descended from the sky were gleaming as if they were alive, like each one had its own story to tell. The trees that lined the forest stood tall, almost as if they were trying to reach the sun itself. Their branches were mostly bare, save for the odd leaf here and there that had not yet been touched by the autumn winds. Small patches of lavender sat along the snow-laden path; slight hints of violet could be seen through the thick blanket of snow which shrouded them. A flock of songbirds sat on a thin branch on a nearby tree; their cheerful notes echoed through the air as a gentle breeze blew past.

Anora and I were deep in the woods; we were several miles away from the closest village or settlement. We were currently in the middle of stalking a very large and dangerous bear that was terrorizing the locals of a village called Bleaker's Way which sat between Bruma and the Imperial City. Anora and I happened upon there during our journey back to Fort Blackmoon after our ordeal at Bruma. We rented a room there to spend the night and we had heard several of the villagers talking about a bear that had already claimed the lives of four of their fellow villagers. Realizing it had been a while since I had hunted, I inquired further into the matter, and they happily divulged everything I needed to know.

I was told that a large black bear lived in a cave deep in the forest a few miles west of the village. Over the past few weeks it found its way into the village and very quickly it grew to be a menace. It started out by eating farmers' crops and causing damage to a few of the houses, but within a few days it completely mauled an unlucky villager who had happened to be outside at the wrong time. Three more victims fell to the bear over the next two weeks. Everyone was growing restless and afraid. Afraid that their village; their way of life, was at risk. Nobody had the strength or the courage to challenge this bear, and the villagers were soon losing all hope of the problem ever being dealt with. So obviously the villagers were ecstatic when Anora and I offered to take care of the matter. They offered a nice reward too; a thousand septims as well as free rooms and board for a night.

We had been traveling for at least half a day. Despite being the middle of Frostfall, the heat of the sun was strong; I could feel its warmth on my back almost constantly. I wasn't sure exactly how far away we were from the bear's cave, but I was hoping the journey wouldn't be too much longer.

We would stop and rest every hour or two beneath the darkness of the shade provided by the long branches of the trees. We would just sit and listen to all the various sounds of nature that could be heard in the woods: the rustling of rushing rivers flowing in the distance, the melodic notes of the birds as they sang together in harmony, the soft whisper of the frigid wind as it blew the fallen leaves off the ground.

I was glad to finally be back in the woods again, silently stalking the wildlife as I so loved to do when I was younger, before my life changed. Hunting had always been one of my favorite pastimes. Venturing deep within the vast reaches of the forest always brought me a deep sense of peace and contentment. It was a way for me to escape all the burdens and troubles brought by everyday life. I knew that no matter how hard or overwhelming my life got, that I was always able to escape them by retreating into the comfort of the woods. Watching tree branches swaying with the wind, the countless species of abundant wildlife frolicking about carelessly amidst the evergreen shrubs, the flowers that were all different colors of the rainbow blossoming and blooming under the watchful, warm gaze of the sun. Every aspect of the outdoors was fascinating to me, and I relished every second I was able to bask in the peace and quiet that nature provided. And that isn't even to mention the rush you feel when you've been stalking a large animal for hours on end, following its tracks in the dirt as well as other clues that might have been left behind, and then you finally see it with your own eyes. Standing in the distance, eating away at the vegetation, completely unaware to your presence. The feeling of a knot tying in your stomach as you nock your arrow into place and pull back the bowstring is almost overwhelming. The fear that the target could look up at you at literally any second, or catch your scent and take off running in the distance is always present, always lingering within you. But in my opinion, that's just all part of the fun, and it forces you to be vigilant as well as discreet. And the euphoric feeling you get after a successful kill always makes the entire ordeal worth it. The moment you make your shot, the moment your arrow makes contact with the animal, the moment you see it drop to the ground, the moment you walk up to it and see its lifeless body lying perfectly still within the grass. It's a feeling that I can't quite accurately describe using only words. It's something you would have to do yourself in order to fully understand what I'm talking about. Unfortunately, being the Lord of a powerful vampire clan doesn't leave me much time to pursue such things anymore. Most of my days are spent keeping my court in line, and making sure that our influence is spreading across the land, as well as making sure that our prey of humans stay afraid of us. I do miss hunting though, and I still take to the woods on the occasion if time permits me to do so.

Being with Anora made the whole thing that much better. Having a companion who shared my passion made the experience so much more enjoyable. I loved just rambling on and on with her, exchanging all our different stories of our times in the woods, laughing about the mistakes we made, sharing tips and pieces of advice with each other, motivating and encouraging each other to improve our skills. Hunting this bear down made me weary at different times of the day, but having Anora there next to me always gave me the strength to overcome it and keep moving forward. And for that, I was grateful to her.

By the Gods, she was beautiful. Every step she took, every move she made. The way she elegantly and confidently strode through the snow-covered pathways of the woods. The way her long, luscious locks blew in her face as the autumn wind brushed against her, and the way she pushed it out of her face with a slight flick of her hand. Her skin glimmered underneath the radiating sun; her eyes sparkled brighter than the glistening snow itself. Everything about her was mystifying to me; everything she did was magical and entrancing. I felt honored to have such a beautiful creature as my companion; just being in her presence felt like I had been lifted to Aetherius itself. I was glad that Anora and I were growing closer to one another. I knew that she was eternally thankful to me for rescuing her from Bruma. She had opened up to me a lot since then, and I to her. I knew that I was madly in love with her, and I was almost certain she reciprocated my feelings.

"So Sargoth, what was your most dangerous hunting experience?" asked Anora as we continued to trek through the snow.

I had to stop and think for a moment. I didn't really have _that _many dangerous experiences, as I always promised mother I would never journey too far.

"One day when I was thirteen," I began, having finally thought of something. "I was tracking this very large buck through the woods. My mother never allowed me to venture too far into the woods, but I was hot on this thing's trail and didn't want to let it get away from me," I said, and I could see a spark of interest in Anora's eyes.

"I continued to chase after the deer, and I ended up going a bit further than I was supposed to. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever catch up to the animal, as I had not seen it for almost twenty minutes. I came up over a hill and as soon as I looked down, I could see the deer lying dead in the grass. I wondered what in Oblivion could've killed it so quickly. My question was quickly answered when I saw two black wolves come up next to it; they had gotten to it first, and they were eating away at the poor thing like a child eating a sweetroll."

"Oh my!" Anora said. "Did they see you?"

"They did, unfortunately," I answered. "They hadn't even finished with the deer yet. As soon as they laid eyes on me they were after me like a thief after a coinpurse."

"That sounds terrifying!" Anora said.

"It was," I said with a slight chuckle. "I was able to draw my bow in time and kill one of them before they got to me. I had to run after that though, I didn't have near enough time to bring down the second one. I ran as fast as my feet would possibly permit me. I swear I was faster than a horse that moment, but unfortunately the wolf was faster. I felt a sharp pain in my arm, and I saw that it had latched onto me with its teeth. I thought I was going to be that thing's dinner for sure," I said, and Anora gasped as she raised her hands to her mouth.

"How did you get away from _that_?" she asked in astonishment.

"I think it was a combination of my quick thinking as well as sheer luck that I was able to get away," I said. "I was able to kick the wolf off me, and then I took out one of my arrows and stabbed its eye right out," I smiled proudly as I recalled that.

"I remember the wolf howling in pain next, and then I continued running. I was able to get far away enough to get my bow out. I set that same arrow in place, not even taking the time to aim properly. I fired, and the wolf fell to the ground and didn't get back up again after that. I don't remember exactly where I even hit it now, but it was fatal wherever it was, and that's all that mattered."

"Wow, you were fortunate to have gotten out of that alive. Wolves are swift, as well as deadly," Anora said.

"My mother wasn't exactly thrilled to see a massive gash in my arm when I got home," I chuckled softly. "I was just lucky I didn't contract Rockjoint or something else of that sort."

"That's quite a story! I'm glad it turned out okay though," Anora said, smiling at me.

"So what about you? Surely _you've_ got some dangerous stories to tell," I said to Anora.

"Not really," she answered. "I mean, I did get chased by bandits one time," she said rather nonchalantly.

"Bandits?" I asked in surprise. "I think that's a story worth elaborating on."

"Well… honestly it started a lot like your story," Anora began. "I was tracking an elk for quite a few hours. I had found several fresh droppings on the ground as well as tracks, and I knew I was on its trail. I delved deeper and deeper into the forest, and to be honest I wasn't paying as close attention to my surroundings as I should've been."

"Is that where you saw them?" I asked.

"Yeah. I was eventually able to catch up to the elk. I could see it standing right in front of a small pond, drinking from it. I drew my bow and readied my shot. That truly could not have been a more perfect moment. The animal was blissfully unaware that I was there, and I couldn't possibly have had a clearer shot. I fired the arrow and killed the elk instantly, but it was then I heard voices muttering a short distance away from me," Anora told me.

"The bandits," I said.

"They were stalking the exact same elk that I was, and they were none too pleased that I had stolen their kill," Anora said. "I could hear them cursing as they drew closer to me, and shortly after I saw three or four figures emerge from the trees as if from nowhere. I remember one of them shooting at me, and I remember the arrow whistling past me, missing my face by mere inches. I got away from there as fast as I could, and I could hear them chasing after me," Anora was chuckling softly as she told her tale.

"How did you manage to escape from _four_ bandits?" I asked.

"Being small has more advantages than you might think," Anora smirked. "My size allowed me to escape their line of vision fairly quickly, and my clothes blended into the woods quite nicely. The bushes and plants provided more than enough cover. I don't think the chase lasted any more than five minutes to be perfectly honest. When I was certain they were a good distance behind me, I climbed the tallest tree I could find all the way to the top and hid amongst the sitting leaves. The bandits eventually came to the spot where I was, but I was much too high up for them to find me. They gave up after only a minute, and once I was sure they were gone, I leaped to the ground and ran back home. I told my father about what happened, and he alerted the guards who kept watch for the bandits."

"Must have been scary," I said.

"Eh, more thrilling than scary honestly. I was just bummed out that I never got to go back to that elk and skin it and bring the meat home," Anora said calmly, like almost getting killed by bandits was no big deal.

"How old were you when that happened?" I asked.

"Twelve, I think," Anora replied. "Yeah, pretty sure I was twelve."

There was then a moment of silence between the two of us. I was very much enjoying exchanging stories of hunting with Anora. Our light-hearted banter and laughter was helping me to forget my weariness thanks to this long trek through the snow. The sun rose higher in the sky as the afternoon progressed and the air grew warmer.

"Sargoth…" Anora began, her tone of voice a bit more serious. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Anora. What is it?" I asked.

The woman was silent for a couple seconds. "Do you believe in fate?" she asked.

"Do _I _believe in fate?" I repeated her question as my brain registered it.

"Yeah, like… do you believe everything happens for a reason?" asked Anora. "Do you think our lives are predestined the moment we're born into this world? Do you think our thoughts and actions are guided by the Divines?"

I can't say I was expecting a question like that, and I had to think for several moments before I could respond. I could see Anora looking at me with a glowing curiosity in her eyes.

"No," I replied rather abruptly. "I don't."

"Oh?" I heard what I thought to be a hint of disappointment in Anora's voice. "Why not?"

I had to think again for another moment. I wasn't anticipating the conversation to change like this, and frankly I wanted to keep talking about hunting. But if Anora wanted to change the topic, I decided I would indulge her.

"There are so few things in this world that we are able to control; that we are able to change," I said. "I'd like to think that I at least have control over my own life. I'd like to think that my thoughts, my opinions, and my beliefs are all my own. I detest the thought of someone else controlling everything I do, everything I feel, say, or think. I believe everything that happens in our lives is a direct result of our own decisions. We have the power to shape our lives as we see fit. We have the power to make ourselves into anything we want. And to me, that is one of the few comforting thoughts I can find in this world full of sorrow and tragedy." I honestly never really thought much about that matter until Anora asked me, but I know that every word of my answer was spoken from the heart, and to this day, I believe no differently.

"I can't say I've ever thought of it that way," Anora said. "You sound like you've been through a lot in your life."

"I have."

"Do you at least worship the Divines? I mean, don't you believe they watch over us? That they protect us?" Anora asked me inquisitively.

"I try not to care, to be honest," I answered. "The Gods forsook me years ago, and I them. I don't need their so called "blessings" in order to be happy. I'm doing just fine without them."

"How did they forsake you?" Anora asked. "Don't think I'm judging you or anything, I'm not. I'm just curious."

My hair blew in my face against the breeze; the gaze of the sun was shining in my eyes. We came upon a sloped hillside that overlooked a valley below where I could see drifts of snow scurrying along with the wind. I could see quite a few miles down south where the land was much warmer and more temperate; the trees teeming with evergreen leaves surrounded by lush grass that was as full and thick as a sheep's wool.

"My mother was an amazing woman," I started to say. "Loving, caring, affectionate. She would never hesitate to help a total stranger who needed it. We were quite poor, and she put herself through absolute hell every day to ensure that I was fed and had a bed to sleep in. She did her best to provide for me, and I couldn't have possibly asked for a better mother." Talking about her was extremely difficult, and I was struggling to keep my emotions in line. Anora was my friend though, and I found that I didn't mind confiding in her with these sorts of things. I felt comfortable around her; like I could tell her anything without fear of judgement.

"She was depressed though; troubled. My father, whom I've never met, abused her for years. It got so bad that she had to flee Morrowind just to get away from him. She came to Bravil when she was still pregnant with me, and that's where we lived. That's where I spent my whole childhood," I said.

"Oh my goodness," Anora said with sympathy in her voice. "That sounds terrible."

"She was pretty much forced to sell herself to complete strangers at nighttime just to make enough money to pay for our meals," I said. "This went on for years, pretty well every day. My mother prayed to the Divines every single day. Prayed that they would get us out of that slum of a city, prayed that they would bless us with a better and more prosperous life. Prayed that they would improve our fortunes, and that we would at least be able to live more comfortably," I confided to Anora. I could feel anger and resentment towards the Gods building in my voice as I spoke.

"She prayed every day, but the Gods did nothing to help us. They were content to just sit up there wherever they are and watch my mother suffer. The Divines are supposedly all-powerful and caring, so why did they ignore my mother's prayers? Why did they continue to allow us to live in poverty in that shithole of a city?!" My voice was rising with every word, and I saw that I was shouting.

"My mother's depression worsened over the years. She ended up turning to the bottle for comfort. She completely gave up on herself. She gave up on her life, her dreams, her passions. Everything. I tried to help her, I really did. I did my best to make her feel loved, make her feel like she was appreciated. But nothing I said would make her feel better. The warm, affectionate woman I knew all my life was gone. I barely even knew her anymore." I felt tears dripping from my eyes as I poured my heart out to the woman next to me. "One night, I came home, and my mother, she….she."

"She what?" Anora asked with concern.

"She was dead. The pain of everything had become too much for her to live with, and she took her own life." I could hear my voice shuddering.

Anora gasped. "I am _so_ sorry, Sargoth. I…I don't even know what to say. I can't even begin to imagine what you must have felt."

"My mother hoped that the Divines would eventually give us a better life. But they didn't," I began again. "For whatever reason, they just chose to ignore my mother's prayers and did nothing to ease her grief. The Divines failed her. They failed _me_. When my mother died, so did any faith I might have had in them. And that is when I realized that the Gods do not care for us at all. They are _not_ kind or loving. They are malevolent fiends, monsters. Watching the suffering of us mortals brings them pleasure. A sick, sadistic pleasure. They're nothing but evil, careless spirits who thrive on our misery and sorrow. I will _never_ pray to them for as long as I live. And one day, I _will_ find a way to make them pay for abandoning my mother."

I looked over at Anora and could see that she was left speechless by what I had said. I hoped I didn't offend her, I certainly wasn't trying to. The words just came out, almost involuntarily like a rushing wave of water. Once I started letting out my feelings, I just couldn't stop. My heart was racing with anxiety as I awaited what she was going to say next.

"I had no idea you had been through so much," Anora said. "I know there's nothing I can say to make you change your mind. I wouldn't even want to try. But I think you should try and let those feelings go, Sargoth. I know it isn't easy, but you'll only find yourself bitter and unhappy if you continue to feel this way. You need to try to push aside the sadness and see the positive side to life. There is so much beauty, so much wonder that can be found in this life. But if your eyes are blinded by grief and sorrow, you'll never see it." I knew Anora was right, as much as I didn't want to admit it. There wasn't an ounce of anger in her voice, only understanding and compassion. She listened intently to every word I said, and she didn't judge me or try to change how I felt.

"I'm glad you're here with me, Anora," I said to the woman in appreciation. "You've been an amazing friend in the time I've known you, and you have a beautiful heart."

A joyful smile crossed her face as she looked over at me. "I care about you, Sargoth. And I just want you to know that if you need anything, all you have to do is ask me."

An eagle soared gracefully above me around the midday sun. Its wings were spread wide as it let out a mighty cry that echoed through the skies and to the heavens. The wind had picked up slightly, and I brushed a lock of hair from my face.

"So what was _your_ childhood like?" I asked Anora. "I've been spilling my guts about my life for the last while. I think it's about time you shared a little bit about yourself with me now." Anora chuckled softly.

"Well…" Anora started. "My family lived on a small little farm a few miles north of Anvil. My parents had three children; I was the middle child. I have an older sister named Sidra, and a younger sister, Leana. My parents were good people, though I didn't know my mother very long. She died giving birth to Leana when I was just three."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Anora," I said solemnly.

"My father raised us by himself for most of our lives," said Anora. "Thinking back now, it couldn't have been easy. Taking care of three girls, as well as a farm. He loved all of us dearly though, and he provided for us the best he could."

"Is he still alive?" I asked.

"No," she answered. "He died of Bone Break Fever a few years ago when I was sixteen. We were all devastated, but Sidra by far took it the worst." I could hear a hint of sadness in Anora's voice as she spoke. "My sisters and I were sent to live with our uncle shortly after father died. My uncle….he was not a good man by any standards."

"How so?" I asked.

"He was a deadbeat drunk, that's how," Anora took on a slightly more angry tone of voice. "Every damn night he would come home more drunk than a sailor, and he would beat my sisters and I, sometimes to the point of unconsciousness. He abused us for his own sick pleasure, with absolutely no care or remorse for any of our feelings."

"By the gods. That sounds awful. I'm sorry you had to go through that," I said, trying my best to sound comforting.

"Sidra suffered the worst of his wrath. I saw her struggle so hard to protect us, to keep us safe. After father died, Sidra was more like a mother to us than our sister. If she saw that our uncle was about to unleash an angry outburst upon Leana or me, she would step in instead, just so we wouldn't have to suffer," Anora's voice was beginning to tremble. "I suspected for a while that my uncle was doing even worse things to Sidra at nighttime. She never said anything to us about it, but I could hear her cries and screams in the middle of the night, and I knew that my uncle was raping her."

I was horrified by what Anora was telling me. "Your uncle sounds like a despicable person," was all I could manage to say.

"_Was_ a despicable person," Anora replied. "One evening I was home by myself. Sidra and Leana had gone to a nearby village to buy some food and equipment we needed. I was alone just cleaning the house. Suddenly, the front door bursts open, and in stumbles my uncle, drunker than he's ever been before. He sees me, mutters something incoherently, and then forces himself on top of me. I'm pinned to the ground, and he's just ripping my clothes off like some madman." Anora paused for a brief moment.

"My brain hardly had time to properly register what was happening. My only option was to just lie there and wait for it to be over with. Just as he started to force himself inside of me, I spotted a knife sitting on the kitchen table. I was able to kick my uncle off me, and then I sprang to my feet and took the knife. He was too drunk to even stand properly, and I then slit his throat while he was still down. Only seconds later, my uncle was dead, and it was then that the reality of everything that just happened began to sink in. Everything seemed like it was just a blur, a dream," Anora explained to me. I was silent for several moments.

"I know exactly the feelings you're talking about," I said. "I'm no stranger to being forced to kill in self-defence. You feel like nothing that just happened is actually real. I think your brain does that to protect you, to keep you from backing out of defending yourself. Emotions can stop us from doing what we need to do in order to survive, so I think our mind momentarily shuts them off so that doesn't happen."

"Perhaps," said Anora.

"What happened after?"

"Well, I was still panicking from everything. I figured I couldn't stay there though. Once my uncle's body was found, surely the guards would be after me," Anora replied. "I packed some things into a bag, and then I wrote a note for my sisters and left it on the table. The note told them that I had killed our uncle, and that I was leaving. I apologized for everything that happened, and I begged that they would forgive me. I left the house before they got home, and I haven't seen them since." Anora's story was all so much to take in. Something like that is nothing anyone should ever have to endure. Especially not a young girl like Anora.

"By Azura," was all I could say then. "How old would your sisters be now?"

"Assuming they're still alive," said Anora. "Sidra will be twenty-four in Evening Star, and Leana turned fifteen in Sun's Dawn. Gods, I miss them so much," she said with a sullen voice.

"I'm sure you'll see them again, Anora," I did my best to console her. "Chances are they're safe and sound, if they're anything like you." Anora smiled.

"I hope you're right. I really hope you're right," she said. "Despite all that though, I try to keep an optimistic outlook on life. There's really no point in being bitter and angry all the time. I just have to believe that everything will work out in the end. I have to believe that I will see my sisters again. It's what keeps me going."

We were both silent for the next few minutes. I knew that must have been hard for Anora to talk about, but I was glad that she trusted me enough to tell me. I certainly felt relief in telling her about my troubles, and I hoped that she felt the same way.

We stopped to rest near a large tree for a couple moments. My breath could be seen in the cold air, and I had to rub my chest to keep warm. Anora started to fix her hair, and I could feel the tension in my legs beginning to ease. We soon started off again, and it was a couple minutes later that I noticed a large set of tracks in the ground which I recognized instantly.

"Look!" I said as I pointed to the ground. "The bear's been here, no doubt about that."

"You think we're close to it?" Anora asked.

"I would say so. The tracks look very fresh, like they were left here very recently. I think we're on this thing's tail now. Come on, let's find this bear and be done with this."

Anora and I increased our pace. Seeing those tracks was encouraging for me, and knowing that we were close to the bear brought me a boost of energy. Several leaves were falling from the trees as we ran. We came to a steep hill where I saw a few droppings that the bear had left. There was no doubt in my mind now that we were catching up to this bear. I was nervous though. Bears are dangerous creatures, and you need to know how to take them down properly. If you're unprepared and let them get too close, that can very well be the end of you. Their claws can be as sharp as blades, and their teeth can pierce just about any material.

We came to the top of the hill, and looking down I could immediately see the bear ahead in the distance. I dropped to the ground and motioned for Anora to do the same.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"The bear's down there," I answered.

"What was it doing?"

I poked my head up slightly to look at it again. Its nose was pointed towards the ground as its thick, black fur blew against the wind. It walked around in circles as it continued to sniff its surroundings.

"It looks like it's just looking for food," I whispered, trying not to alert the beast to our presence.

The bear grunted as it raised its head up. I then saw it stand tall on its hind legs as it faced the light of the sun. Its growls grew louder as it scanned the area, and I hoped that it wouldn't see us or catch our scent. I then saw it return to all fours, and then it took off running in the opposite direction and away from us.

"Come on. This is our chance," I said.

Anora and I got back up from hiding and continued our pursuit. The bear must have been running rather quickly because we didn't see it again after that. We continued to run through the snow and against the frigid breeze. I could feel pools of sweat dripping from my face and all over my body. I was tense; worried that perhaps the bear was going to get away. My heart was racing and my breath was frantic. Anora was swiftly following my lead.

I began to lose hope as we trudged further and further along. I was really hoping this long journey wasn't going to be in vain. The tracks were still visible and I knew the bear was still on the run, but I had no idea how far away from us it was now. I was cursing at myself in my head, and I was certain this hunt was about to end in failure.

"Look!" Anora yelled. "Over there!"

I turned to my left and looked to what caught Anora's attention. Surrounded by a small thicket of bushes, was a secluded cave. The opening was as black as the abyss itself. It was very well hidden amongst the vegetation as well as the snow, and I would have missed it entirely if I had been alone.

We slowly approached the cave, and I could see several mangled bones strewn about the area. There were patches of dried up blood soaked into the snow, and a couple pelts were scattered around whose owners had undoubtedly been devoured.

"The bear definitely lives here, no question of that," I said.

"So, we going in after it?" Anora asked.

I nodded my head and we stopped just before the entrance.

"Ladies first," I teased.

"Jerk," Anora said playfully before walking ahead of me and into the cave.

* * *

My nose was greeted with the stench of rotten and decayed animal carcasses. More bones could be seen littered around the cave. A group of four deer were all lying dead ahead of us. Most of their hides had been chewed off, and flies were buzzing around as they eagerly helped themselves to what was left of them. Small drops of water were dripping above us, and there was a hole high above where a beam of sunlight passed through.

"By the Nine," Anora said. "I've never seen so many dead animals in one spot."

"We'd best tread lightly if we don't want to join them," I said.

"Right."

I don't know exactly how long we spent in that cave. I suspect it couldn't have been any longer than half an hour, but it certainly felt longer than that. The rancid stench of death and decay was overwhelming to my nostrils. I had to suppress the urge to vomit several times. Anora was steadily keeping up behind me. We didn't speak much in the cave; we didn't want to make any more noise than was necessary to avoid alerting the monstrous bear.

After passing by several more dead carcasses, Anora and I happened upon a small pond sitting in a corner of the cave, and it was there that I caught sight of the bear. It was peacefully drinking from the pond; I could hear it slurping loudly every time it dipped its mouth in the water. I figured it probably had no idea we were still following it.

"It's over there," I whispered to Anora; my words barely audible.

"What do you wanna do?" she whispered back.

"I think our best bet would be for both of us to shoot at it at once. Take it down before it even knows we're here."

"Good idea."

We drew our bows and each nocked an arrow into place. I could hear the sound of our bowstrings creaking as we slowly pulled them back. The bear lifted its head for a second, and I was afraid it had seen us. It eventually turned its head back down to the pond and continued with its drink.

I took a few seconds to steady my shot. The bear stood on its hind legs and let out an audible growl, and that's when I fired. Anora followed suit immediately after. Our arrows whistled through the damp air of the cave, and only seconds later the black beast fell silently to the ground as our arrows struck its neck. My plan worked like a charm. The bear was dead before it even knew what hit it. It didn't see us, and we didn't have to use our swords at all. It was a silent, perfect kill. The kind of kill that every seasoned hunter strives to achieve. I smiled as relief swelled within me.

"Good shot," I complimented Anora.

"Thanks, you too," she replied.

* * *

When we made our way back out of the cave, the sun had already set behind the mountains. The twin moons were looming high above us; their gaze illuminating the land. Auroras of a dark violet color were radiating vibrantly in the sky which complimented the glow of the starlight.

"Wow," Anora said. "It's so beautiful, isn't it?"

"It is," I replied, my eyes fixed on the shimmering purple lights. I started to set up a campsite at the spot. I took out a tent and some bedrolls and spread them on the ground, and I cleared a little spot in the dirt to make a fire later. It wasn't much, but it was a good enough place to spend the night and rest.

I looked over at Anora as she started climbing a nearby tree. She gracefully and effortlessly pulled herself up through the high branches. "Come on Sargoth! You ain't afraid of heights are you?!" she teased.

I chuckled and started ascending the tree myself. Several leaves and branches were getting in my face as I climbed. I looked up to see Anora who was way ahead of me and still climbing. A branch snapped as I grabbed onto it to support myself, but fortunately I was able to regain my balance in time and continue climbing. After another minute I saw Anora perched comfortably on a long, thick branch close to the very top of the giant tree. Her eyes were sparkling like the moons themselves; her hair was almost a reddish color underneath the night sky. I sat next to her on the branch and joined her in gazing at the peaceful night.

"I was never a religious person," Anora said. "But Kynareth's gift of nature is truly a blessing. In a world so full of evil and hatred, it comforts me to know that there's still mesmerizing beauty to be found in it. If there is such a thing as a perfect moment, this is it."

I couldn't disagree with her about that. The night was truly breathtaking and captivating, and being up here with Anora just made it even more so.

"Is this what you had in mind for your life?" I asked.

Anora giggled. "Gods no. This is pretty much the last thing I pictured myself doing, running with a gang of thieves and cutthroats."

"What _did_ you picture yourself doing?"

She chuckled again. "Honestly, you're gonna laugh at me if I tell you," Anora said.

"No I won't!" I said. "I promise, I won't."

"You know I love hunting," Anora said. "But my other passion is music. Ever since I was a little girl, I've always wanted to be a bard." Anora sounded a little embarrassed as she spoke.

"Is that so?" I asked eagerly.

"I love singing. It's always been my dream to just travel across the land, performing for people. Whether it be in taverns, castles, manors, or pretty much anywhere. I've always just wanted to travel far and wide, and spread the gift of music everywhere I go," Anora told me.

"What stopped you?" I asked.

"Well, after the incident with my uncle and being forced to run away, that didn't exactly leave me much room to pursue that," Anora replied. "Most of my days after that were spent just trying to survive and avoid ending up as some predator's dinner. I'd still like to try someday though. Nothing would make me happier."

I looked at the sky again and then back at Anora. "Why don't you sing _me_ something?"

Anora turned her gaze towards me. "Really?" she asked nervously. "Are you- are you sure?"

"Yeah," I answered softly. "I mean, you don't have to. I just never knew you liked to sing is all."

"It's been so long," she said. "Promise not to laugh if I sound bad?"

"Promise."

Anora was silent for a moment as she cleared her throat. The woods were perfectly quiet that moment; not a single creature was stirring. Anora took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves before she began.

"_When the sky grows dark_

_When the air grows cold_

_When the winds of sorrow blow_

_When shadow shrouds the land_

_Just look to the light, I'll be there_

_Just look to the light, I'll be there_

_When the darkness hides the sun_

_When time fades away_

_When the rain of tears fall_

_When there's no hope at all_

_Just look to the light, I'll be there_

_Just look to the light, I'll be there_

_The sun will rise again_

_The darkness will burn away_

_As night turns into day_

_And love warms the air_

_When you feel like you can't go on_

_When you feel the end is near_

_Just look to the light, I'll be here_

_Just look to the light, I'll be here_."

* * *

For the first time in a long time, I felt tears streaming from my eyes. I was reminded of my mother when she used to sing to me when I was little. I would wake up in the middle of the night crying after a nightmare, and she would always lie next to me on my bed and sing me to sleep. Her voice would always melt away my fear like the sun melts the snow in the first days of spring. Listening to Anora reminded me exactly of that, and once again I could feel all my troubles, all my worries being washed away like I had bathed in the waters of Aetherius itself.

Anora and I gazed longingly into each other's eyes once again. The distant chirping of crickets echoed through the air, and that is when we brought our lips together into a deep, passionate kiss. Time itself seemed to cease in that moment. I wanted to stay up in that tree with Anora forever, everything was just perfect. That kiss was warmer than the brightest flame, more soothing than the softest wind, more beautiful than the most vibrant flower. Anora cupped my cheeks with her hands; I could feel her warm breath against my skin.

"That was beautiful, Anora," I said to her softly.

"You really think so? I was just eight when I came up with that," she said.

We kissed again as the moons continued to shine above almost as if they were watching this moment. I gently stroked her long hair that was soft as silk as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. The stars were burning bright in the night sky like the flames of passion burning within us.

This was the moment I had been waiting for ever since I first met Anora. It almost felt as if it was too good to be true, like it was just a dream. But it wasn't. It was real. Real and beautiful. And I didn't want it to end. I wished I could freeze time and make that moment last forever. I felt a happiness that I hadn't felt in so long that I almost forgot what it was like. That was the greatest, most serene moment of my life thus far, and deep down I was dreading the fact it would eventually end.

As we looked at each other again, I could see that look in her eyes, that sparkle. She was thinking the exact same thing I was. No words were necessary to know that we both wanted to take this moment much further; the mischievous look on our faces said more than all the words in the world could. Anora and I swiftly descended the tree back down to the ground. I quickly lit a fire with my flame spell to set the mood. This was it. This was the perfect moment to share our love. By the warmth of the burning fire, under the dark embrace of the shadows, this was where we would satiate our desire for one another.

I took Anora firmly in my arms and gently laid her down on one of the bedrolls. I stroked her hair again as I began to kiss her on the neck. Anora's arms were wrapped tightly around my body; she was running both her hands along my back. The burning fire rose higher in the air; its embrace caressing both of us in its warmth as we lay there pressed close against one another.

Anora's tongue entered my mouth, tickling it as she kissed me full on the lips. I allowed myself to be overtaken by the warmth of her wet lips as they locked with mine. I slowly reached my hand around to the buckles holding on her leather armor, and I gently started to remove her cuirass that was so blatantly separating me from her smooth body.

My desire and lust was burning within me like a flame as I straddled Anora's hips. Gasps of pleasure escaped the woman's lips as I ran my fingers along her bare flesh. The long gash on her stomach from her torture at Castle Bruma was still red and visible, but it did nothing to take away from her beauty. I circled my hand around her stomach; her soft moans increasing my arousal. I brought my mouth to her armpit and gently licked the entire length of her arm.

I kissed the spot just above Anora's breasts; I could see that her nipples were hard through her bra. Her green eyes were teeming with lust, and she pulled me down by the scruff of my armor and kissed me forcefully.

I reached my hand down the cups of her bra and started squeezing her left nipple, increasing the pressure gradually. Anora's breaths became more frantic; her body jerked as I cupped her breast with my other hand.

Anora clawed at my back which caused my whole body to tingle with pleasure. I continued to pinch and pull her nipple until I saw that she was sore. She then sat up and placed her hands on my pants. She made no attempt to hide what she wanted. She quickly loosened my belt and slid it through the loops of my pants and tossed it aside. She gracefully slid my trousers off and tossed them in the same manner she did my belt. My heart was throbbing with desire, and Anora smirked as she eyed my bulge underneath my loincloth.

I placed my hands firmly on Anora's shoulders as she reached her hand around and began to loosen the thread holding my cloth in place. After doing away with the cloth, Anora started lightly stroking my now exposed erection and teasingly brushed the tip with her tongue. My body vibrated with pleasure as Anora ran her hand along the length of my engorged member. I was lightly pulling her hair as I shook at her touch; I was hard to the point that it was almost painful.

Unable to bear the teasing any longer, I placed my hand on the back of Anora's head and gently pushed it down towards me. She complied, and another jolt of arousal shot through me like lightning as she completely took me in her mouth.

I rocked my hips in perfect timing as Anora sucked me; her head bobbing back and forth as she stroked the base of my member with her hand. I dug my fingernails into Anora's shoulders and she let out a short yelp. I then saw her spit onto my tip, and she began to rapidly rub her saliva into my shaft. I could feel the pace of my heart increasing steadily as my arousal was building. Anora took me in her mouth again to the point I could feel the back of her throat; her tongue swirling around my shaft.

Reluctantly, I urged Anora to stop. I was nowhere close to wanting to finish yet; I was going to savor this moment for every second I possibly could. I reached one hand around her back and hurriedly loosened her bra strap. I tossed aside the undergarment and basked in the sight of Anora's bare breasts.

She lay on her back once again, and I set myself on top of her. Anora let out a sharp breath as I brought myself down and began to softly suckle her breast; my tongue swirling in circles around her erect and swollen nipple.

My hand made its way down Anora's torso; I could feel her drips of sweat between my fingers. The woman's moans of pleasure grew louder as I continued to press my lips against her round, firm breasts. I took her swollen nipple in between my teeth and began to lightly bite the skin, causing her just the right amount of pain to be pleasurable, but not so much that I was outright hurting her.

My left hand found its way down to Anora's waist, while my right crept slowly to her trousers. I rubbed my fingers against the middle of her pants before firmly grabbing her crotch, giving clear indication of what I wanted. Anora took the hint and hurriedly undid her belt before tossing it aside. She stretched her legs up towards me, and I easily slid her trousers off without hesitation.

I placed my hands on Anora's smooth legs, slowly savoring the feel of her flesh. I kissed the spot just above her knee while I started to rub her thigh, gradually increasing my pace. Anora's moans grew more restless and frantic. Looking up at her leather thong, I could see that she was dripping wet.

My hand made its way up her leg; my other hand caressing her buttocks. I took the piece of thread holding her thong in place, the only thing separating me from her womanhood. I almost felt as if it was staring at me; mocking me in a way. I started to unfasten the thread, and Anora slid my hand away.

A feeling of intense yearning pierced my body like an arrow.

"Don't think you're getting it _that_ easily," Anora said. The desire within me was getting to be unbearable.

Suddenly, the Bosmer-Nord woman grabbed me forcefully and straddled me as she set me on my back. She took the straps of my armor in her hands and swiftly unfastened them. I lifted my arms, and Anora slid off my cuirass and laid it beside us. With Anora still on top, she leaned her head in and planted her lips onto mine; her tongue swirling the inside of my mouth. My hand was rubbing her crotch area vigorously. I was desperate, hungry even, for what was underneath that piece of leather. Anora began stroking my erection once again as the flesh of her naked breasts tickled my chest. That wouldn't satisfy me though. There was only one thing that would satiate my lust, and it was so close, yet so far.

I couldn't take it anymore. Enough was enough. I pushed Anora down on her back and regained my position on top of her. Her forest green eyes lit up like the glowing stars. She knew I could hold myself back no longer. With one swift movement of my hand, I yanked off her leather thong. Anora's swollen, moist genitals were in clear view; both of us now completely naked and exposed to each other.

I planted my lips on Anora's stomach and began slowly making my way down, kissing her bare flesh as I went.

I brought my head down to Anora's crotch and began to tease her, running the tip of my finger along her wet labium. Her body convulsed as I gradually fingered her soft folds faster and faster; she clutched her hands firmly onto the bedroll she was lying on.

Anora's gasps grew in volume as pleasure shot through her body. I gently spread open her folds with my thumbs, slowly tracing the inner walls of her vagina. I then inserted two fingers inside her; her wetness oozing out of her.

Anora bucked her hips as I began to firmly stroke the sensitive flesh of her vagina, continuously bringing my fingers in and out with a tease. Her moans grew more and more frantic and desperate as she squirmed underneath me, her body begging for release. But I wasn't going to let her. Not yet. Now it was _my _turn to do the teasing. I was going to savor every inch of this beautiful woman.

I lifted Anora's legs all the way back behind her head and slowly pressed my lips against her wet flaps. My tongue found its way to her sweet spot, and I began lightly circling around it.

Anora was shaking with pleasure and anticipation; she grabbed harder onto the bedroll to keep herself up. I massaged the cheek of her buttocks as I started full-on eating her out; I drank her as her wetness oozed into my mouth.

Anora's body was bucking violently; her moans turning into a scream. After licking inside her a moment longer, I brought myself off of her. I could see the frustration, the tension in Anora's eyes. I would deny her what she wanted no longer. I would finally give her what she so desperately craved. Keeping her legs still lifted up, I brought myself back to Anora and firmly inserted myself into her. A quick breath escaped the woman's mouth.

I made sure to be gentle with her, starting off with slow, steady thrusts. The friction of her moist vagina sent a pleasurable vibration all throughout my body. I leaned into Anora and started kissing her mouth. I could feel the rising tension within her small body.

I only grew harder as my arousal built, my thrusts becoming more vigorous. Anora's body rocked in perfect rhythm to my movements. I could feel the muscles in her genitals beginning to clench around me; I knew her climax was close. I could feel my own release building up within me, waiting for the right moment to unleash itself.

I began rubbing Anora's crotch to add to her pleasure; she was gasping uncontrollably, screaming with my every thrust. I brought my lips to her once more and kissed her passionately as I knew both our orgasms were near. I could feel my member pulsating as I thrust at full speed inside her.

Anora's vaginal muscles were now fully clenched around me, her entire body convulsing uncontrollably as she let out a mix of moans and screams. I knew that her release had come. She squirted several times as her climax overwhelmed her. My own muscles began to tighten like a knot within me; my entire being lost within the euphoria of my release.

My member was pulsing; my pelvic muscles contracting. Those few seconds were far too short, but they were filled with nothing but pure bliss and harmony. Every ounce of tension was all being let out at once, and sharing this beautiful moment with the amazing woman that I loved so much just completed everything. I could feel my seed slowly oozing out of me as I released, my member still lodged inside Anora.

Our breaths steadily began to slow down as our intense pleasure began to ease away. I pulled out of Anora; my seed spilling out of her. I pulled a fur blanket over us, and we cuddled our still naked bodies together in a tight, passionate embrace.

Anora and I kissed madly once again without a care in the world. Our campfire was still burning in the air, and the twin moons shone their vibrant gaze upon the two lovers who had just consummated their relationship and were bursting with fulfillment.

"I love you, Sargoth," whispered Anora. "So much." We continued kissing in our loving embrace.

"I love _you_, Anora," I said back, and a smile crossed the woman's face.

We gazed at each other for what seemed like an eternity, basking in the serenity of this perfect moment. We kissed endlessly underneath the warmth of our blanket as we held each other tight in our arms. The night wore on, and we finally succumbed to our fatigue. We shared a final kiss, and we both fell into a deep, peaceful slumber, under the caress of the nightly shadows.


	18. Voyage

Spring had returned to the land of Cyrodiil. The snow had melted across most of the country; the trees were once again vibrant with newly fresh leaves. The flowers and vegetation across the vast fields were beginning to grow once again, like they had been blessed with new life from the spring rains. The wildlife had come out of hibernation and was once again frolicking carelessly through the evergreen forests; their voices could be heard for miles as their calls resonated all throughout the clear, crisp air. Countless flocks of birds were soaring high above, circling the rising sun as it gave birth to a new day.

It was the eighth day of Second Seed. Valryn and I had decided to do some fishing that morning, and there truly could not have been a more perfect day to do it. We packed some equipment into our bags and just took off on our horses in the early hours of dawn. The twin moons could still be seen faintly in the sky when we left, and not a sound could be heard stirring in the woods as we rode through the nocturnal silence.

We had ridden south for close to an hour until we finally stopped at a large lake which sat quite a few miles away from the Imperial City. The sun was just beginning to rise as we brought our horses to a halt and tied their reins together against a tree.

"Here it is," Valryn said, "one of the best spots in all of Cyrodiil to do some fishing. This water is just teeming with all different kinds of fish, waiting for us to catch them." A cheerful smirk swept across the Dunmer's face as he spoke.

The darkness of the sky was gradually dispersing as the morning sun rose higher and higher. The dawn was heralded by the melodic notes of birds as they awoke from their peaceful slumber. The lake was perfectly still and calm as I approached it; not a single ripple could be seen in the clear blue waters. It was almost as if it was sleeping peacefully along with the other creatures inhabiting the surrounding nature. I could see my reflection as I continued to stare into the lifeless lake; my scarlet eyes glowing brightly, as if I were staring into my own soul. My face was dark and obscured by the shadows that still lingered from the night, like a haunting apparition or some other kind of supernatural spirit.

Valryn and I gathered our equipment, which mostly consisted of worms we had dug up that we would be using as bait, some food, and of course our fishing rods that we had made out of pieces of long, sturdy branches of wood. We saw some boats sitting along the edge of the lake and took one, figuring that nobody would mind if we used it for a while. After carefully sliding the boat into the somber lake, we rowed for a few minutes until we came to where the water was deep and also a good distance away from any land.

The morning had soon turned to noon. The woods surrounding the area were now bustling as all the different species of creatures could be seen striding gracefully along the green pastures. I sat peacefully with Valryn in the boat; my mind was daydreaming off to all sorts of different worlds as my eyes peered relentlessly into the water. My hands were tightly gripping onto the branch which served as my fishing rod.

"Beautiful day, huh?" Valryn asked suddenly.

"Yeah, sure is," I replied.

"My pa used to take me out fishin all the time when I was a lad," the Dark Elf began. "Whenever he came home from the Legion; almost every morning we would just take off to the waters and spend the whole day together, without a single care in the world. Those were the good ol' days I guess."

My eyes were focused keenly on the line sitting in the water. "You miss him? I mean, your father?" I asked Valryn.

"Oh yes, I still miss him immensely," Valryn replied. "I still remember the day my ma and I found out. Two Imperial soldiers came to our door late in the evening. They broke the news to ma, and next thing I know she's absolutely in hysterics. I was only ten at that time, so my mind didn't fully register what was happening right away. I soon figured it out though, and I was hit pretty hard." The Dunmer spoke with a dreary tone of voice.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Valryn. You must've loved him a lot," I said sympathetically.

"I did," said Valryn. "I was always so happy when I would see him on his horse, riding home after a couple months away with the Legion. He would always have some strange, neat souvenir to give me that he had found or bought on his travels. I remember always being devastated when he would have to leave again, knowing it would be quite a while before I was able to see him again."

"Were your parents close?" I asked.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. They seemed happy enough," the Dark Elf replied. "My mother was never happy about my father being away for such long periods of time with the Legion, and it did cause a strain in their marriage at times. But pa only joined the Legion when he couldn't find work anywhere else, and he wasn't about to let us start living on the streets as beggars. He did whatever he could to keep a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs.

"My mother was the same way," I said. "She underwent some pretty horrific things in her life, yet she always stood strong, always did whatever it took to provide us with shelter and food, even if it wasn't much."

"My folks were happy though, for the most part. Ma was always glad when he came home, and I'll never forget the haunting sound of her shrill cries as the soldiers at our door told her that her husband was dead. Something like that doesn't just leave your mind. That shit stays with you forever," Valryn said.

I felt a tug on my fishing pole, and I began to pull it in. After a few moments of pulling and tugging against my line, I brought it out of the water, only to see that my worm had been eaten and my hook was now bare.

I heard Valryn chuckle lightly. "Slippery bastard get away from ya?" he asked.

I ignored him and reached for another worm. The slimy creature tried to wiggle and squirm out of my fingers as I set the hook inside its little body. I was eventually able to secure the metal hook inside the worm, and I cast my line back into the now rippling lake.

"It was after my pa died that I started acting out," Valryn said to me. "My ma was so wrapped up in her grief that she more or less started ignoring me. I don't know if it was intentional or not, but sometimes ma acted like I wasn't even there. It's like she became a completely different person after pa died, like I was just more of an annoyance to her than a son."

"Death affects people in many different ways," I said. "It can change people in ways you never imagined, sometimes forever."

"Tell me about it," Valryn let out a chuckle. "I started to question whether ma even loved me anymore. She just preferred to spend most of the time alone after my pa's death; away from me. I started to feel pretty hurt by her coldness over time. I became angry, bitter, and isolated. I started to become desperate for attention, so I started acting out. I just started doing everything I could possibly think of to purposely make ma angry, anything to just get her to notice me. I figured that bad attention was better than _no _attention at all." I could detect a hint of remorse in Valryn's voice.

"I can understand that," I said.

"It started out with pretty minor things like purposely breaking stuff around the house, not doing my chores, being loud, that sorta stuff. Over the years though it got more serious. When I reached my mid-teens, I started getting into drugs, skooma mainly," Valryn paused for a moment. "I still remember the first time my ma found a hidden stash of skooma under my bed. I thought she was gonna lop my head off right there."

"You must've gotten in a lot of trouble for that!" I chuckled.

"I did," Valryn chuckled as well. "Then I started getting in trouble with the law. More times than not, a guard would bring me home late at night after some stupid shenanigans, and ma would give me the same ol' lecture every time on "being a respectful citizen" and that bullshit."

"Are you angry with your mother?" I asked. "I mean, for throwing you out of her house and all that?"

"Oh no," Valryn replied. "I never blamed her for a second for her choice. I was becoming much too big a handful for her to handle. I was a nothing but a hooligan, a rebel, whose life was going absolutely nowhere. I deserved what I got, and I never harbored any ill thoughts toward her."

"Do you miss her?"

"I do, truth be told," Valryn said. "I'd certainly like to see her again after all these years, though I doubt she feels the same way. After all I put her through."

"That might not necessarily be true, Valryn," I said. "You're her son, and I'm sure she always loved you deep down, even if she failed to show it. I'm sure after all this time that she's forgiven you of what you've done. I think she would be more than happy to see you." Valryn looked over at me and smiled.

"Perhaps you're right, Sargoth. Perhaps you're right."

A mist was shimmering over the lake in the distance. I could see several deer that had come out of the woods starting to eat away at the plants. A few clouds had formed in the sky above, slightly obscuring the sun and casting a looming shadow over us. I then saw a couple large splashes in the water in front of me, and that was when I felt another bite on my hook.

"Got a biter?" Valryn asked eagerly.

"Yeah!" I answered.

"Pull it in you fool! Pull it in!"

I struggled against the fish for several moments. I knew it had to be a big one if it was putting up this much of a fight. I pulled on my rod with all my might, my line swaying back and forth in the water as the mighty jaws of the fish remained clenched around my hook. My heart was beating with excitement, and after a few moments longer, I successfully pulled the large fish out of the water and into the boat. Valryn and I both laughed with glee as we watched my catch flopping around the boat.

"Nice catch Drelas!" Valryn yelled eagerly. "_That_ is a mighty fine fish if I ever saw one my friend!"

I just smiled as I watched my fish flop mindlessly around our boat. I grabbed the hook out of the fish's mouth, and then I tossed it into a bucket so to prevent it from flopping back into the water.

"You should be proud of yourself, Sargoth," Valryn said to me. "It ain't too often you catch something of that size."

"Thanks Val."

Just then, I saw the Dark Elf begin to tug on his own rod, and I knew he had a bite.

"This one's putting up one hell of a fight!" Valryn yelled excitedly.

I could see the fish in the water, struggling hopelessly against Valryn's fishing pole. The creature certainly put up a worthy battle as it splashed water everywhere, but it was no match for my fellow Dunmer, and he pulled the struggling fish out of the water and into our boat.

"Now _that's_ what I'm talking about!" Valryn shouted with glee as he held his catch in the air proudly.

"Good catch Valryn!" I congratulated. "Not as big as mine though."

"It ain't always about size, Sargoth," Valryn retorted. "Every catch is special in its own way. The experience, the rush, the excitement, that's all more important than the size of your catch."

"Mine's bigger," I laughed.

"Shut up."

We spent the next hour or two just talking and laughing as we caught more fish from the peaceful lake. I was happy that I finally had someone in my life I could call a best friend. Someone with whom I could talk to about absolutely anything. Someone who was always able to cheer me up with a joke or words of comfort when I was feeling down. I was happy with where my life was at that time. For the first time in perhaps my whole life, I finally felt what true, genuine happiness was like. I had fit in extremely well with the Crimson Serpents, and I considered each and every one of them as part of my family. I could not have been more pleased with how my life had turned out so far, and I would not have traded it for anything in the entire world.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon when we saw that our bucket was quite full of fish, and we then decided to head back home. We rowed back to shore and returned the boat before gathering all our equipment and mounting our horses. The journey back to Fort Blackmoon seemed to go by fairly quickly. I was excited to cook up some of the fish we had caught and share them with everyone else at dinner.

"Afternoon, boys!" we heard the voice of Torgron say as Valryn and I dismounted our horses back at the fort.

"To you as well, Torgron!" Valryn said to the Nord who was working the forge outside. Soren was sitting nearby on the stairs, his nose deep in a book as usual as his shoulder length hair blew in his eyes.

"Do a little fishing did ya?" the Nord asked. Valryn brought over the bucket to show Torgron all the fish we had caught. I sat down next to Soren and took out my pipe and lit up some moon sugar. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes in utter bliss as I allowed the fumes from the drug to soothe my entire body. I had no idea where Jari got all his moon sugar, but he always seemed to have plenty of it, and he was more than happy to share it with me.

Torgron and Valryn were still talking with one another about our fishing trip, and I then saw the Nord walk over to me like he had something to tell me.

"I almost forgot to tell you," Torgron said to me. "Galthar wants to see you in his quarters."

"Did he say what he wanted?" I asked.

"Nah, but I'd reckon he probably has a job for you," the Nord answered. "Whatever it is though, I wouldn't keep him waiting."

I made my way to the top level of the fort where Galthar's quarters were located and saw that his door was wide open. I slowly walked inside and saw the High Elf seated behind a large desk. He had a quill in his hand and was scribbling something down on a piece of parchment.

"Ah, Sargoth! I've been wanting to speak with you," Galthar said as he looked up and saw me.

"Torgron told me," I said. "What do you need?" I took a seat in a chair in front of Galthar's desk.

The Altmer's room was quite large and elegantly furnished. There was a double bed sitting in the back of the room; above it hanging off the wall, was a long black banner with the design of a dark red serpent stitched into it. Many bookcases lined the walls; hardly any of the spaces were empty. The floor was covered with a bright red rug, and there were several chests and drawers neatly placed around the perimeter. A mannequin stood to the left side of the room, wearing a suit of dark Elven armor. Hanging above that was Galthar's Daedric sword, Necrosanctus. The evil blade radiated an ominous and menacing glow as it hung proudly on the wall.

"First of all, I would like to ask you," Galthar began. "How are you adjusting to your life in the Crimson Serpents? Do you have any concerns that you feel require discussion?"

I pondered my leader's question for a moment before giving my answer.

"None at the moment, I think," I said. "I think I've fit in quite nicely. I know I've been happier ever since you brought me here."

"Good," Galthar replied. "You have been doing quite well for yourself, despite having been here less than a year. You've carried out every job smoothly and efficiently, and you have proven yourself a valuable member of this group. Keep this up, and you might even earn Moon's respect."

"Is that even possible?" I retorted, and Galthar chuckled.

"I imagine you're wondering why I've asked you here," Galthar said. "You've been doing very well with the Crimson Serpents, and I feel that it is time to entrust you with a contract much larger than you've been used to. This will no doubt be the biggest job you've received yet, but Shadow and I both feel that you are ready."

"And what is this job?" I asked the Altmer with much nervousness and anticipation.

"You will be going to Morrowind," Galthar replied. "Solstheim, to be exact."

Excitement immediately shot through me.

"M-Morrowind?" was all I could manage to say.

"You've never been to your race's homeland have you?" Galthar asked. "Indeed this will be quite an experience for you."

My mother used to tell me tales of Morrowind all the time. She told me how much of the country had been destroyed after the Red Mountain erupted and left much of it in smoldering ashes. She told me that our homeland was quite different from Cyrodiil; that the land was not nearly as hospitable as where we lived. A few settlements and villages were able to hold on after the eruption, and the Dunmer were quickly rebuilding the places that had been destroyed. For a long time I found myself wanting to see Morrowind for myself; see with my own eyes what my homeland looked like. And now I was finally going to get the chance.

"What exactly is the job?" I asked Galthar.

"Now that, I actually am unsure of. I was never given the details," said Galthar. "But you are to travel to the small settlement of Raven Rock and meet the client in one of the inns there. You will receive specific instructions of your mission once you arrive."

"Am I to go alone?" I asked.

"Oh no, my boy!" Galthar replied. "Whatever this job is, I'm certain it holds much importance. Valryn shall accompany you, as will Torgron and Lorian. I need to speak to them and fill them in on all this. You leave at daybreak tomorrow."

I left Galthar's quarters with eagerness still surging through me. This was going to be my first time leaving Cyrodiil, and I couldn't wait to see what the next day had in store for me.

I walked into my own quarters and saw Anora who was resting comfortably in my bed. Her eyes lit up and she smiled as she saw me. I climbed onto the bed with her and I saw she was only wearing her underwear. I straddled her hips as I sat on top of her, gently running my hand along her slender curves.

She pulled me down to her for a kiss, and she cupped my cheeks with her hands. I allowed myself to be overtaken by the warm, pleasurable sensation as she pressed her lips against mine; our tongues swirling in each other's mouths. I brought my hand down the length of her arm with one hand, and with the other I began slowly massaging her breast.

I started kissing Anora's neck, my tongue gently brushing her smooth flesh. The woman let out a breath of pleasure at my touch.

"Galthar wants me to go to Morrowind tomorrow morning for an assignment," I started to say. "Valryn, Lorian and Torgron are coming too."

"You must be excited," Anora replied, "finally getting a chance to see your homeland." She kissed me again as she firmly grasped my shoulders.

"I guess I am excited, but also nervous," I said. "I've never left Cyrodiil before; this is going to be an entirely new experience for me. But Galthar trusts me with this task so far away, so I'm not about to let him down."

"Promise me you'll stay safe," Anora said as I rubbed her stomach.

"I'll certainly try," I replied, and Anora chuckled softly. I pinned her arms to the bed and kissed her with fierce passion. I could see the lust lingering in her leaf green eyes, the insatiable hunger.

I could feel Anora's heartbeat as I brought myself to her chest, her body teeming with excitement and arousal as we held each other in our tight embrace. Part of me almost didn't want to go to Morrowind at that moment. I would have been perfectly content to stay in that bed with Anora and make love to her endlessly. As much as I may have been looking forward to seeing my homeland for the first time, I knew I was going to miss Anora immensely while I was gone. I wished that she had have been coming with me.

* * *

I awoke bright and early the next morning. I made my way to the lounge downstairs where Rasha was cooking breakfast. I saw my three companions already seated at one of the round tables, and I made my way over and joined them.

"Mornin Sargoth," Torgron said. "You ready for today? We got a long journey ahead of us."

"As ready as I'll ever be," I smirked. "I've been eager to see the home of my race after all these years."

"Don't get your hopes up," Valryn said abruptly. "Morrowind has fallen on hard times since Red Mountain erupted. The great cities are but shadows of their former selves, much of the land is completely inhospitable, and teemed with monsters and all other sorts of dangers."

"Do you expect trouble, Valryn?" Lorian asked. The Bosmer held a tankard in his hand.

"Not necessarily," the Dunmer replied, "though our line of work almost always involves some degree of trouble. All I'm saying is Morrowind has really gone downhill over the years, and I just don't want Sargoth to be disappointed when he sees the dreary state it's in."

"I'll have to agree with Valryn," Torgron spoke up. "I've been to Morrowind once or twice in my time. It truly is in a sorry state. In fact, I'd like to be out of there as quickly as humanly possible."

The four of us continued to talk as we ate our breakfast and downed a couple pints of mead each.

"I think the best idea would be to travel to Morrowind by ship," said Torgron. "I have experience with sailing, and it is surely the quickest way to get us there."

"And how do you intend to get a ship exactly?" Lorian asked with doubt present in his voice.

"Simple," Torgron replied, "we stop at the Imperial City on our way there. We hang around for a bit, and at night time we'll "borrow" one of the ships that will be docked at the waterfront." The Nord paused and looked at the Bosmer. "Unless of course you have a better idea?"

Lorian shook his head. "Can't say I do."

"Good. So it's settled then," said Torgron as he chugged the last of his mead. "We leave within the hour. I'd like to be at the Imperial City before the evening comes. I want a chance to scout the waterfront and look for the best way to get ourselves onto a ship."

After the four of us finished eating we met outside at the stables and prepared our horses for the journey. I slung my bow and arrows around my shoulder, and I also brought along my sword and a dagger. Valryn and Lorian swiftly mounted their brown and grey steeds respectively, and Torgron soon followed suit after he slung his mighty battle-axe over his back.

I soon after mounted my own horse and looked to the sky. The weather was overcast that day; the sun obscured and hidden by dark, grey rainclouds. A shadow was looming above the vast woods ahead, its fixed gaze banishing any sort of light away from the world. I felt a slight wind brush against my face. The leaves which hung off the distant trees led a slow, somber dance as the breeze blew by, and it seemed a fitting compliment to the gloomy weather around us.

"Let's be off boys," Torgron said as he rode to the front of the group. "I don't like the look of the sky at all. I'd say we're in for quite a bit of rain."

The Nord was quite correct, much to our dismay. No more than twenty minutes into our journey, the clouds in the dark sky opened themselves up and unleashed the heavy waves of rain within. We all lifted our hoods over our heads, but that was not enough to stop the relentless torrents of water from utterly drenching our outfits. The journey ahead of us was long, and the endless rain only seemed to make it even longer.

* * *

It was dusk when we finally reached the gates of the Imperial City. We dismounted our horses at a stable and left them there after paying a small fee. The rain was still pouring from the sky mercilessly, drenching everything in its path. As we entered the mighty gates into the city and made our way through the cobblestone streets, I found myself keenly observing the elegant stonework and architecture. I had never been to the Imperial City before, and I was fairly impressed by the magnificent structures.

The layout of the city is quite similar to the design of a wheel, as I like to think of it. The outer walls of the city come around to form a massive circle, while the individual districts were sort of like the spokes of the wheel. The Green Emperor Way stood at the heart of the city, with its bustling and vibrant gardens which bloomed across the area. Ancient stone mausoleums and monuments dedicated to fallen Emperors and war heroes stood among several smaller graves within the gardens. I knew those stones were at least several thousand years old. Small patches of moss were sitting firmly on the decrepit tombs; many cracks could be seen stretched wide across the grey stonework. In the middle of it all of course, was the grand and magnificent White-Gold Tower itself. The home of the Elder Council and the Emperor himself, at least if there had have been one. The structure stood high and proud above the rest of the city, from where we were it looked almost higher than the clouds themselves. The extravagant masonry of the tower was beautifully accentuated by the colorful gardens and thick bushes surrounding it.

Our group made our way to the Talos Plaza District. I was still admiring the city and largely ignoring the still falling rain. The streets were lined with several luxurious houses, most of which were closely joined together. A beautiful stone statue of a dragon stood at the heart of the district, its wings spread wide through the air and its mouth open as if it were unleashing a thunderous roar. I could tell by the elegant designs of the buildings that only the wealthiest citizens of the city made their home in this district.

The four of us made our way to an inn, appropriately named The Tiber Septim Hotel. We lowered our hoods upon coming inside, and I began to shake the water out of my hair and off my leather armor. We all sat down around a table in front of a fireplace, and I could immediately feel the warm, soothing flames beginning to ease my weary muscles as my armor started to dry.

The innkeeper spotted us and she offered each of us a drink as well as dinner. We happily accepted, and shortly after she brought us all some mugs full to the brim and steaming hot meals. We all devoured our meals quite quickly and I could feel my armor was already quite dry. None of us said a word that moment. We simply basked in the warmth of the blazing fire and the peace of the quiet hotel.

Torgron stood up after finishing his drink. "I'm going to the waterfront. I suggest you boys get some rooms and try to get some shut-eye for a few hours. I'll try not to be gone too long." The Nord left some coins on the table for his food and drink and swiftly left the inn.

I myself was in need of a nap, and I followed Torgron's suggestion and rented a room. I opened the door to the room with the key I was given and immediately plopped into the large, cozy bed. The room was quite impressive, certainly nicer than my house back in Bravil. I could feel the weight of sleep descending upon me, and I soon shut my eyes and succumbed to my fatigue.

* * *

I'm not sure how long I slept, but I was awakened by Valryn shaking my shoulder.

"Time for us to go buddy. Torgron's back," said the Dark Elf. I quickly gathered all my things and met the others downstairs by the fireplace.

"All right boys, we're off to the waterfront," said Torgron.

"You have a plan, I presume?" Lorian asked the Nord.

"Of course I do," Torgron said confidently. "There's only a few guards stationed at the waterfront, and we'll also have the cover of night to shield our movements."

"And what about the guards who _are_ stationed there?" Lorian asked with doubt. "I don't think they'll exactly be thrilled to see four strangers just waltz onto a ship and make off with it."

"If you doubt me that much Lorian, then feel free to take the damn ship yourself!" Torgron said with irritation. "No? Well then shut up and let me talk."

Lorian let out a frustrated grunt and looked towards the floor.

"As I was saying," Torgron continued. "I found a beggar and paid him off to cause a distraction for the patrolling guards. He's agreed to lead them quite a distance away from the ship, so hopefully we won't be hassled while trying to make off with it." The Nord paused for a few seconds. "Anyone have any questions?"

We were all silent and we simply nodded our heads.

"All right then. Let's be off."

Upon reaching the waterfront, I immediately saw it was quite run down compared to the rest of the city. The place was littered with filth; the residents of that district were severely impoverished with all the houses being little more than old, rotten shacks. I saw two or three ships docked nearby that looked like no one was currently on.

"That's the one over there," Torgron pointed to a ship on the far right of the docks. "Now where's that bloody beggar?"

No sooner had Torgron asked that question, we could see a man dressed in ragged clothing running up to us. I could only assume this was the beggar of which Torgron spoke.

"There you are," the Nord said. "Ready to do this?"

"Yeah," the beggar answered. "This gold better be worth the jail time I'll be getting for this."

"I gave you more than enough to pay the fine," Torgron replied. "Just get the guards away for long enough for us to steal the ship. Fuck this up, and jail will be the _least_ of your worries."

"Uh, right," the beggar said. He sped off away from us and made his way to the guards nearby.

We lowered ourselves to a crouch as we watched the beggar stride towards the group of guards on patrol. I could feel my blood beginning to rush with anticipation as I watched. It was too late for second thoughts now.

The beggar reached the guards, and with a swift flick of his hand, he swiped a coinpurse from one of the unaware guards. He took off at the speed of wind, and the guards immediately took chase.

"Hey! Stop, thief! Get back here!" I heard them shout.

"With me boys," Torgron said as we began to follow him onto the ship.

The guards were far away from us at this point, and the hulking vessel was ours for the taking. The four of us quickly made our way to the other side of the docks and onto the boat.

"Lorian, undo the ropes holding the ship. Sargoth, loosen the sails," Torgron commanded.

I ran over to the mast and began quickly unfastening the ropes holding the sails in place. They soon fell gracefully from the air, and the ship was soon ready to leave for our voyage.

"Good work boys!" Torgron praised us. "Let's get the hell outta here before those guards grow a brain and realize they've been duped."

The Nord took his place at the helm of the ship and began to steer us out of the harbor. I was happy to be leaving this place. The stench reminded me more of Bravil than I would have cared for.

In no time at all, we were out of the waterfront and away from the city. It was now nothing but a mere speck in the distance, and we had now crossed into open water. We began to make our way south out of the province.

* * *

Several hours passed since we stole the ship. I had taken another nap shortly after, but the sound of the ocean was eventually able to wake me up. I made my way back up to the main deck and stood along the port side of the ship. I gazed in wonder across the vast horizon as the rising waves beat against the hull of the mighty vessel. I could faintly see the evergreen fields of Cyrodiil looming in the distance. This was the farthest I had ever been in my whole life. I felt free all of a sudden, like the whole world itself was calling my name, beckoning me to explore every inch of its beauty.

I lit up my pipe as I stared in awe at my surroundings. Torgron came and stood next to me.

"Pretty isn't it?" the Nord asked as he adjusted his eye patch.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"That's Black Marsh over there," Torgron answered, "home of the Argonians. Never been there myself, but they say almost the whole province is covered in swamps and wetlands. Can't say I'd want to live there if I do say so myself. We'll be sailing east for several hours, and then we turn north where we'll come to the coast of Morrowind. Let's hope the weather grants us a peaceful journey."

The journey to Morrowind took us almost a week. The weather had proved to be favorable, and the voyage was rather uneventful. We certainly did not want to run into any trouble before even beginning our mission.

As our ship drew nearer to the Dunmeri province, I could see a billowing cloud of dark smoke rising in the air on the horizon. I immediately knew that had to be from the Red Mountain, and I was proven correct when I then saw the top of the menacing volcano. The sky above us was dark, and it closely resembled the smoke from the volcano. I was shocked at how different everything looked here than back at Cyrodiil. Whereas Cyrodiil was colorful and vibrant, this place looked like the life had been sucked right out of it. Almost no colors besides grey or brown were present. I knew that Morrowind must have taken heavy damage from Red Mountain's eruption, and it saddened me to see my homeland in such disarray.

Our ship eventually came to the island of Solstheim which was a short distance away from the mainland of Morrowind.

"Here we are boys," said Torgron as he brought the ship into the harbor. "This is Raven Rock, as Valryn already knows. Many of the residents of Vvardenfell were forced to flee here after Red Mountain erupted. This place ain't what it used to be, but the Dunmer are a resilient species, and I believe this place will be rebuilt to its former glory in time."

Torgron slowly brought the ship to the docks of Raven Rock before bringing it to a stop. The four of us then all stepped onto the pier, and I stopped for a moment and keenly observed the ruined city.

"Welcome home," said Valryn as he placed a hand on my shoulder. "This place ain't much to look at, but it is our homeland, and you should be glad to be here."

I was, to be perfectly honest. Despite the dull and colorless landscape, and the thick smog in the air, I was happy to finally be seeing the Dunmeri homeland. I had always been fascinated by my mother's tales of our home, and I was glad to finally be seeing it with my own eyes.

We made our way off the docks and into the town itself. The landscape was heavily dominated by ash and plants, most of the houses and buildings being built from the ash fall itself. Mountains of rock could be seen surrounding the small village, and snow could be seen in the distance due to the island's close proximity to Skyrim. The ashen ground was dotted with various plant life, most of which were a blood red or dark brown color. There was a clear abundance of fungal spores that surrounded the village and could be seen growing even miles away. As our group walked through the grey and ashen streets of the town, I found myself fascinated by the difference in environment between Cyrodiil and this place. I missed the familiarity of Cyrodiil slightly, but I was still glad to be here.

"All right, let's find this damned client so we can get this contract started," said Torgron impatiently.

"Galthar said he was waiting for us in an inn," I spoke up.

We walked around for a couple minutes before finding the building we were looking for. It was smothered in brown ash and dust just like the rest of the buildings in the town. We slowly stepped inside and looked around for a few moments.

"I hope this is the right place," Valryn said. "If we traveled all this way just for the client to change his mind, there's gonna be hell to pay."

"He'll be here," said Torgron. "I don't think he's exactly going to make himself stand out in here. We just need to act casual, draw him out."

We all went to the main area of the inn and sat by the bar. A Dunmer innkeeper greeted us kindly and brought us all some drinks. The fireplace across the room was warm and brought a relaxing atmosphere. The inn was quiet, and I basked in the silence as the cold drink in my hands soothed me after such a long journey.

I looked around the inn with curiosity as I continued to enjoy my drink. The others were talking and laughing, though I was mostly tuning them out. Nobody else was in the room, or so I thought.

Almost out of nowhere, I could see a man in dark clothing emerge from the shaded area across the room. His dark skin told me he was a fellow Dunmer; he was swiftly striding towards us as if he knew us. Torgron saw him coming and turned around in his chair to face him.

"I've been waiting for you," the man spoke with a thick Dunmeri accent.

"You're the mystery client who dragged us all the way out here?" Torgron asked the Elf.

"Indeed. I know this must have been a long journey, and I apologize. But I have a mission that is of the utmost importance, and you will be handsomely compensated," said our Dark Elf client.

"And what exactly is this mission?" Valryn asked.

"I'll get straight to the point. A colleague of mine was recently arrested and thrown in prison. I won't get into details about him, nor will I reveal his name," the client said. "All you need to know is he is very important to my work, and his imprisonment poses quite a big problem for me."

"You don't mean…." I said.

"Yes," the client answered. "Your mission is to break into the prison and get him out safely."

Lorian almost choked on his drink. "You _must_ be joking," he said in disbelief.

"I never joke, Wood Elf," said the client. "The prison in question is south of Blacklight. It is heavily fortified and _very_ well-guarded. In fact, nobody has ever escaped its walls in all of its history. How you carry this mission out is entirely up to you. All I care about is my colleague getting out alive and well. Do that and you will receive a substantial amount of gold."

"So what exactly does this prisoner look like?" I asked. "If you won't give us his name, we need something to go on."

"He's a Nord. Big, burly guy, flaming red hair and a thick beard. He has a hint of warpaint under his left eye. Trust me, you'll have no trouble spotting him," the client said.

We all sat in silence for several moments. I don't think any of us had fully registered the task which now lay before us quite yet.

"Very well," Torgron said. "Consider it done."

"Excellent," our client said. "I knew I sent for the right men."

We stood up after paying for our drinks and walked towards the door to the inn.

"Oh, one last thing," the client spoke again. "My colleague is scheduled to be executed sometime this week, so I'm afraid time will be against you. Needless to say, I will be most displeased if this happens. So try to be quick about it would you?"

"_Great_," I heard Torgron whisper silently.

* * *

We stepped back outside into the streets. The shades of nightfall were looming over Raven Rock, the moons providing the only source of light at all in that dark land.

"How in Oblivion are we supposed to break into a goddamn _prison_?" Lorian asked angrily.

I felt fear and anxiety coursing through me, and I knew the others were feeling the exact same way.

"I don't know Lorian. I honestly don't know," Torgron confessed. "But we have to try. Galthar is counting on us, as well as the client. We can do this. We _must _do this. Come on." Torgron did his best to encourage us and lift our spirits, but I doubt it worked. I wondered the same thing as Lorian. Breaking in a prison, and then back out was going to be no small feat.

None of us said a word as we left the ruined town of Raven Rock and walked into the swirling mists and dense fog of Morrowind. Not as we passed the shores of the sea, not as we crossed the hills overlooking the island, and not as we treaded along the barren wasteland which encompassed most of the island. Not a single, solitary word.


	19. Into the Darkness

I stood at the edge of the shoreline watching the waves of the sea crash against the ashen ground of Morrowind. I could hear the sound of loons calling in the distance; the peaceful yet haunting sound echoed for miles against the nighttime breeze. A thick, misty haze sat above the stirring sea, giving it a rather ghostly and unearthly appearance. The glowing stars in the sky were slightly obscured due to the volcanic ash-like clouds that seemed to be constantly present in the air. The calm rustling of the sea and the songs of the distant birds helped to soothe my restlessness that night; my nightmares were slowly burrowing to the back of my mind.

It had been two days since we had left Raven Rock. The urgency and the danger of our current mission was always looming over our heads like a menacing shadow, always tormenting us, reminding us of the consequences was our mission to end in failure. To add to our stress, we had a very short time limit to rescue our target before he was executed. Even Torgron, the senior member of our group was afraid, and if Torgron Wolf-Scar was afraid of something, then everyone else damn well better be as well. This would be my second experience with breaking somebody out of prison, but this was going to be nothing like when I rescued Anora from Castle Bruma. This was a _real _prison, and I knew it would be crawling with well-trained guards who would not hesitate to slaughter us the moment they caught sight of us. This mission was going to require the utmost discretion, and we were all going to have to be as stealthy and as silent as mice. The first problem of course, was going to be finding a way inside at all. We certainly weren't going to just march up to their front door and ask them to let us in.

After we left Raven Rock, we spent the next several hours traversing the volcanic terrain and making our way through the jagged mountains of Solstheim. The large, menacing figure of the Red Mountain could always be seen from any point on the island. I felt like it was constantly watching over us threateningly, like some omniscient deity sitting high up among the heavens. The air was full of almost nothing but ash and dust, and it felt like your lungs were being weighed down with every breath you took. After a few hours traveling the island, we came across a man who had tamed one of the last remaining silt striders in all of Morrowind. He offered to take us off Solstheim with the massive creature, and eventually he brought us to the mainland of the province and he dropped us off at the city of Blacklight which was currently the capital of Morrowind.

Blacklight was one of the cities that remained standing after the devastation of the Red Year. It was territory of House Redoran, the most powerful of Morrowind's Great Houses, and it became the capital of the province after Mournhold fell during the Argonian Invasion. It was a prosperous city, certainly when compared to most of the others, and despite the state of the rest of the province, it did quite well for itself. The population had grown exponentially over the years; after Red Year many residents went there after they were forced to flee their homes due to the catastrophe.

After arriving on the mainland our group stayed in Blacklight for several hours. The city was very large, and it possessed the typical Morrowind architecture. Many of the buildings were built straight from the ground, and packed with mud which made them sturdy, and they were covered in shades of brown and red from the harsh volcanic climate. A river ran through the entirety of the city via a long canal that was dug into the scorched ground. The wealthier section of the city was built atop a hill which overlooked the rest of Blacklight. That area was largely dominated by the extensive fungal growth seen all throughout Morrowind, with many of the buildings being built right into the spores.

We stayed at one of the inns within the city to rest our feet and enjoy some cold drinks after our journey. We were able to get directions to the prison from the innkeepers there, and soon after we left the city and headed directly south and followed the river. We spent the next day crossing through the harsh, scorched terrain, and battling groups of bandits as well as some of Morrowind's native wildlife. I was still astounded over the massive difference between Morrowind and Cyrodiil. This land was indeed mostly inhospitable; the atmosphere reeked of desolation and depression. I felt sorry for the Dunmer who were still living here. After seeing this place for myself, I found myself glad of my mother's decision to pack up and leave. But still, I couldn't sometimes help but wonder what my life would have been like had we have stayed here. Had my father not turned into the violent monster that he did. I knew that he used to be a great man before skooma took over his life, and that was the man I wish I was able to meet. No boy should be forced to grow up without his father. He should have been there. Been there to comfort me when I needed him, to pass on his wisdom and advice to me when I found myself unsure of something, to teach me how to hunt and fish, to watch me chase all the girls around, and to see me grow from a child to a man. I never had that role model in my life, and I know now that it left a deep, festering hole within me that has never been filled. That will never be filled.

The next morning saw a bright sunrise; there was even a hint of blue in the sky that could be seen through the thick smog and dust. After making a quick bite to eat for breakfast, our group was off again once more into the mists of Morrowind.

Our journey to the prison was mostly uneventful, and sometimes even downright boring. I was almost happy whenever a pack of bandits emerged from the fog with weapons at the ready, or a group of savage animals tried to make us into their afternoon meal. It at least provided a way for us to take our minds off the daunting task at hand.

We passed by a large fortress standing on the hillside, or at least what was left of it. The stones were old and crumbling; several of them had even fallen off the once mighty structure and had become permanently entrenched in the ashen ground. The walls which once stood tall and proud were now reduced to a smoldering pile of rubble due to years of warfare and hostile weather. The tall, arched entrance to the fort was still standing, although barely. Many of the stones had crumbled away into dust, and I could also see the main gate which was completely busted down and was left to the mercy of the rough climate. Tattered banners still stood amongst the ruins, the old and shredded fabric swaying against the slow, gloomy breeze. I found it hard to believe that this probably once served as an outpost for a whole army once. Despite the wreckage, this place still looked quite strong and mighty and I knew that it must have been the site of many fierce battles. To see it now in this ruined state was rather disheartening.

"Feelin all right buddy?" Valryn asked as he walked beside me.

"Yeah," I replied. "Just still trying to get used to this place."

"This wasn't the impression I wanted you to have of your homeland," said Valryn. "I really wish it was a more pleasant sight for you, but considering all the crap that's happened to this place over the years, Morrowind is hardly more than a barren wasteland anymore." I could hear the sadness in my fellow Dunmer's voice, and I knew it wasn't easy for him to see Morrowind like this either.

"You think this place will ever be rebuilt to what it once was?" I asked.

"Oh yes, no doubt in my mind," Valryn answered. "The Dunmer are a resilient people. We've been through worse than this and we always managed to overcome it, and we will do so again. I know Morrowind will be rebuilt, and it will be even better than it was before. It will take years, centuries even, but we'll get there. Of this I am sure."

"I sure hope you're right Valryn," I said.

The wind started to pick up slightly, and the fog suddenly grew thicker, making it hard to see ahead of us. Valryn and I lifted our hoods up, and Torgron and Lorian who were in front of us followed suit.

"Where did your family live?" I asked Valryn.

"We lived in Balmora for the first few years of my life," said Valryn. "It got decimated by Red Year though, along with Vivec City and several other towns, and we were forced to flee. We ended up leaving Vvardenfell entirely and we settled in a small village that stood far to the north of Mournhold, the former capital. It was pretty much unaffected by the catastrophe, so that's where we stayed and that's where I lived for the rest of my childhood. You should be glad you got to grow up in Cyrodiil. Away from all the terrible things that happened here."

"Even if it was in a shithole like Bravil," I said.

Valryn chuckled. "Even Bravil probably seemed like bloody Aetherius after the Red Year. I know a lot of Dunmer would have given everything they had to live there after that terrible ordeal."

"I'm still glad I finally got to see this place for myself," I said. "But honestly, I just want to get this mission over with already and get back home to Cyrodiil. I miss it there."

"Oh come on Sargoth, I know that you _really_ just miss Anora," Valryn said teasingly. "We all know that the two of you are pretty much an item now."

"So what if we are?" I asked. "Of course I miss her. How couldn't I?"

"Lucky bastard," the Dark Elf smirked. "I've wanted to get in Anora's pants ever since she joined the Crimson Serpents. How the hell did _you_ ever manage to get with her?"

"She's not an _object_, Valryn!" I snapped back at him. "Don't talk about her like that. Besides, it's not like she'd ever sleep with you anyway. You'd just give her a disease more than likely."

Valryn laughed for several seconds. "I just never understood the whole "relationship" thing. It always just ends up being drama and heartbreak in the end. I figure if women like me enough to sleep with me, then why should I bother getting in a relationship with them? I'm getting all the pleasures of sex without all the bullshit that comes with being in a relationship. I just don't think I could stand being with the same person for years on end."

"Because there's more to being with someone than just sex Valryn," I answered. "You learn about them over time, you build a connection with them, as well as trust. You learn to bond with them, and to communicate your feelings. You learn to enjoy and appreciate each other despite your shortcomings. You love each other for who you are, and you make each other happy."

The smirk never left Valryn's face. "That stuff just ain't for me, I guess. I mean, look at my parents for example. They loved each other quite a lot, and when my father died, it completely destroyed my mother from the inside out. She never recovered from his death, and she became a totally different person after that. That's why I could never get close to anyone. I couldn't imagine having to deal with that grief if I lost someone I loved. It would probably destroy me the same way it did my mother."

I thought about what Valryn was saying for a moment. He certainly had a point, as much as I hated to admit it. I opened my mouth to refute his point, but my mind couldn't find the right words.

"Here we are boys!" I heard the booming voice of Torgron say. "This must be the place."

I looked up and through the fog, and I saw that the Nord was right. This was most definitely the prison.

"How are we supposed to get in _there_?" asked Lorian. I could hear the uncertainty in the Bosmer's voice. We were all wondering the same thing.

"I'm not sure yet," Torgron confessed. "Even from this distance I can see the perimeter of the prison is swarming with guards. They'll kill us on sight if we get anywhere close."

"Do you think there might be a secret way in?" asked Valryn. "Like a tunnel or sewer of some sort?"

"You might be onto something Valryn," Torgron replied. "A large structure like this one is bound to have a sewer network running underground. If we could find it, it would almost certainly lead us right inside. Perhaps even unnoticed."

"And just where do you expect to find this sewer?" Lorian asked doubtfully.

"It can't be too far off," I answered. "Regardless, we're never gonna find it just standing here."

"Sargoth's right," said Torgron. "Lorian and I will look that way, Sargoth and Valryn will look over there. We'll meet back here in ten minutes and share anything we might have found."

Valryn and I immediately set off at Torgron's instructions. I turned my gaze towards the prison. Its menacing grey stones stood looming under the shroud of the dark mist. The place certainly looked intimidating, even more so with the massive patrol of guards that I could see. The prison looked as fortified as a castle, its security nearly impenetrable. My nerves only flared up even more upon seeing this place; my heart was beating like a drum.

I followed Valryn who was a few steps ahead of me. Still struggling to see through the fog, I looked in all directions, up and down, for anything that might have resembled a hidden entrance.

"See anything Sargoth?" asked Valryn.

"Nope," I answered. "You?"

"Negative," said the Dunmer. "Gods, this place is less lively than a passed out bar wench."

We continued to examine the area for the next several minutes. I began to grow frustrated after finding nothing but ash and dust everywhere. If Torgron and Lorian didn't find something, there was no chance we would be getting in that prison. I began to seriously doubt the success of this mission.

"Over here Sargoth," I heard Valryn say with a barely audible whisper. I made my way over to the Dark Elf who was crouched down.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Look," Valryn said as he pointed a short distance away. "There's a grate over there. Looks like some kind of opening."

"You think this is the tunnel we're looking for?"

"I'd reckon so. Don't know what else it would be."

"We should find Torgron and Lorian and let them know."

Valryn and I slowly crept away from the grate and made our way back to our meeting spot. We waited for a minute or two before I could see the other two of the group coming back.

"By Talos, please tell me you two found something," pleaded Torgron. "Lorian and I didn't turn up shit."

"Valryn found a sewer grate over there," I said. "We think it's the hidden entrance we're looking for."

We led the Nord and the Bosmer over to the spot and we all stopped around it. Torgron bent down and lifted the metal grate off the opening with relative ease. He peered his head inside the hole for a moment.

"Good work boys," said the Nord. "That's a sewer all right. My guess is it runs straight under the whole building."

"Dusk is approaching," said Lorian. "The guards will probably be changing shifts right about now."

"Good point Lorian," Torgron said. "Some spots should be unguarded if that's the case. We must tread carefully regardless. And remember; always be ready for something to go wrong."

Lorian descended the ladder into the sewer first, with Torgron following soon after.

"Ladies first," I said to Valryn, gesturing my hand to the opening.

"Fuck you," the Dark Elf smirked before climbing down. I was the last to descend into the dark sewer.

* * *

My nostrils were immediately greeted by a rancid stench upon stepping off the ladder and into the sewer. I gagged for a second as my senses became completely overwhelmed by the odour.

"By the Nine! Did something die in here?" Lorian asked in disgust.

"It's a sewer, Lorian," said Torgron. "It ain't exactly gonna smell like a field of roses."

"This looks like it goes on quite a long ways," Valryn pointed out. "Any ideas on how to keep from getting lost?"

The others thought for a moment and came up with nothing. I looked to the walls and took note of the unlit torch sconces sitting upon them.

"The torches," I said.

"How do you mean?" asked Torgron.

"I'll use my flame spell to light any torches as we pass them. That way we'll know where we've already been," I said.

"I like the way you think Drelas," said Torgron with praise. "Let's go boys."

Our group slowly and stealthily made our way through the long, narrow tunnels of the extensive prison sewers. I made sure to light every torch we passed, which was good because those tunnels got confusing very fast. That place was no better than a maze, with its dark, damp corridors that ran in all directions. Our footsteps echoed with every step we took; every now and again we would splash through a small puddle before we could even see it.

The lingering stench of the sewer grew more potent with every second that passed. I could see Lorian who had plugged his nose with his hand. Small drops of water fell from the wet ceiling in certain spots, their echoes carried on for what seemed like miles.

The four of us carried on through the dank tunnels, hopelessly trying to navigate our way through the winding, endless corridors. I could hear the squeak of rats that were burrowed within the small holes they had dug into the walls. Torgron was leading the way up front with Lorian right behind him. Valryn and I were beside each other keeping pace at the rear. It was a good thing I thought up the idea of the torches, because several times we came to a corridor where torches had already been lit.

"That asshole better be payin us a fortune for this," said Valryn, referring to our client.

"Oh, he will," replied Torgron. "I'll see to that. If he even _thinks_ of screwing us over, I'm gonna take more than just his money."

"Do these tunnels ever fucking end?!" Lorian said with frustration. "We've been going in circles for damn near an hour! Let's face it, we're lost."

We all nodded in reluctant agreement. Literally every corridor in this sewer all looked the exact same. There was no variation in this place at all, the filthy grey stones of the walls being the only sight besides rat droppings. The repetitiousness and monotony of these sewers was starting to drive us all insane. I could tell the others were losing their patience as I was.

"All right, let's just stop for a minute and think," said Torgron in an effort to calm us down.

"We're lost Torgron," said Lorian. "This place clearly doesn't lead anywhere. How about we just quit wasting our time and get the hell outta here? This whole thing was a bad idea from the start."

"We're not leaving, Lorian!" boomed Torgron. "Not without that prisoner! I didn't sail all the way here for a fucking week, trudge my way through a volcanic wasteland, and then spend an hour in a dripping sewer just to turn around and leave! We can't afford to lose our heads here. We just need to come up with a plan."

"Yeah because all your plans have worked out just _great_ Torgron!" Lorian said sarcastically.

"Well you haven't exactly thought of anything yourself!" Torgron shot back. "Gods, you bitch just as much as Ihriel."

"Don't you talk about her like that!" Lorian shouted in anger.

"Or what, Lorian?" Torgron mocked. "Or what? You've been a whipped little dog ever since you met her. I honestly don't know why Galthar even sent you with us. All you've done is bitch and complain ever since we arrived on Morrowind!"

"Keep talking, Nord. And I'll plant an arrow right through your chest!" the Bosmer shouted back.

Torgron just laughed. "Oh please! You can't even beat me in a bloody arm-wrestling match! Are you sure you're even strong enough to _pull back_ a bowstring?!" I could see the anger brewing in Lorian's eyes as Torgron continued to laugh mockingly.

"Would the both of you shut the fuck up?!" Valryn shouted in an attempt to break up the argument. "Do you want the whole platoon of guards to hear you? Look, we're still lost, and fighting isn't gonna solve anything. Let's just take a moment to calm ourselves down. Then we'll think of something."

Torgron and Lorian said nothing, but they looked at each other and gave a nod of apology.

"Valryn's right," I said. "We need to work together here if we're gonna find our way into the prison."

And just then, that was when I heard a sound in the distance. I quickly jerked my head to the side down one of the long tunnels.

"What is it Sargoth?" asked Lorian.

"I heard something," I replied.

"Any idea what it sounded like?" Valryn asked me.

"Unless I'm mistaken, it sounded like two swords clashing," I said, hoping I was wrong. "I don't know who else could be down here though."

"We better check it out," said Torgron. "If Sargoth is right, this could mean trouble for us."

I lead the way through the dark tunnel towards the sound. We turned several times as the corridors intersected with one another. I had no idea what we were running towards, the only thing that could be seen were the looming shadows that shrouded the way forward.

Upon coming to the end of yet another corridor, we made a left and pressed onward. I didn't know why, but I had a feeling we were headed in the right direction. We hadn't come across any lit torches for a while, and soon enough we found ourselves in a room we definitely hadn't seen yet.

The room was large and open; a circular stone platform sat in the middle of a pool of water. Narrow walkways stretched out from the platforms in all directions, which led into even more corridors. A waterfall was rapidly flowing from above us into the water in which we were standing over.

"Well, now where?" Valryn asked.

"Might as well head straight," I said.

We crossed to the other side of the room and continued to head straight. A pack of rats emerged from the stone of the walls and decided to attack us. Our group made short work of them before moving on and leaving them to fester and rot.

Our group took a right turn, and that was when I saw a pool of blood that was seeped into the puddles of dripping water. Torgron knelt down to examine the blood upon seeing it.

"This blood is fresh," the Nord pointed out.

"What does that mean?" Lorian asked.

"It means we aren't alone," Torgron answered grimly. "Be on your guard boys. I smell trouble ahead."

We slowed our pace so as not to alert any potential attackers. Anxiety was swelling in all our hearts. I was waiting with dreaded anticipation, just waiting for someone to emerge from the shadows and take us by surprise. Not even the glow from the torches I lit was able to comfort me.

"By Azura!" I heard Valryn shout in fright.

We all ran over to where Valryn was standing. He was in front of a wooden barrel, and looking inside, I saw the mutilated corpse of a prison guard. The bottom of the barrel was stained red; I could see that his stomach had been split right open with a blade. A few of his entrails lay splattered in a pile beside him; maggots had already begun to feast upon the mess.

"This guard was killed very recently," explained Torgron. "And it looks like whoever did this already made off with his keys."

"Do you think they could be after the same prisoner we are?" I asked.

"With our luck, probably," answered the Nord.

"Look!" Lorian said eagerly as he pointed upwards. "There's a hatch up there. Maybe that goes up to the prison!"

"That would explain the guard being here," said Torgron. "Come on boys. I don't wanna wait around to find out who killed that guard."

We quickly made our way up the hatch and found ourselves in another dark room. After taking a moment to get a good look at my surroundings, I could see several torture instruments smeared with blood standing around the room. Rusted shackles and chains hung from the ceiling, a few lit torches sat upon the blood-stained walls, giving the room an eerie glow. I walked over to one of the torture racks on the other side of the room and saw a skeleton that was still strapped by the legs to the device; his arms must have been pulled right off from being stretched. A cage sat adjacent to the rack. I walked over to it and saw two decayed corpses lying inside it. One of them was missing all of its limbs; the other was impaled vertically with a sharp spike.

"Would you look at this place?" Valryn said in shock.

"At least we know we're in the prison now," Torgron replied. "Now if we can just find this blasted Nord prisoner and be on our way, that would be great."

We opened a door and made our way out of the gruesome torture chamber. This room was a long hallway, which I instantly recognized to be a cell block. Several jail cells were lined on both sides of the walls. Looking up, I could see that this room was comprised of several levels which I figured had even more cells.

"This place is huge," I said. "That damned Nord could be anywhere."

"There must be a section of the prison for inmates scheduled for execution," said Valryn. "We find that, we find our prisoner."

"Don't hesitate to kill any guards if necessary, but _don't_ draw attention. Last thing we need is the whole damn patrol on our asses," ordered Torgron.

We passed by the small, dark cells of the prison. The tormented and agonized moans of the prisoners resonated through the gloomy cell block, their pitiful cries etching their way into my brain.

Upon reaching the next room, I could see a guard patrolling the next level above us. I swiftly unsheathed my bow and readied an arrow. Without even thinking, I released the bowstring and my arrow glided gracefully through the damp air, striking the guard square in the throat. Blood spewed out of him as he tumbled helplessly to the cold ground, his life taken from him before he even had a chance to react.

"Good shot Sargoth," Lorian complimented me.

We crept up the first set of stairs and I quickly retrieved my still intact arrow from the guard's throat.

"Grab his keys," Torgron said. I grabbed the ring of keys from the guard and secured it against my belt.

We made our way up to the top level of the room to be greeted with the sight of even more cells, most of them containing helpless and tortured prisoners. I spotted a lone door over to our left.

"I wonder what's in here," I said with curiosity.

"Only one way to find out," Torgron replied as he came over to where I was.

We snuck up to the door, and as Torgron began to turn the knob, we could suddenly hear two voices approaching from the other side of the door, both with strong Dunmeri accents. Torgron motioned for all of us to be silent.

"By the Nine," I heard the first guard mutter. "I hope I never get assigned to guard a torture chamber again. Those screams are gonna haunt my dreams for months. No amount of mead's gonna get rid of that."

"I hear ya," began the second guard. "I actually had to _clean_ one of those horrible messes after the interrogators finished with a prisoner. Poor guy had all his limbs cut off, and his insides were on the outside."

"Azura's mercy," said the first guard. "Of course they pin _us_ with these tasks, as we're still fairly new here."

"Yeah," said the second guard. "While the Captain just sits upstairs drinking his ale all day. Useless layabout."

"Any executions scheduled this week?" asked the first guard.

"Lemme think. Ah yes, that big red-haired Nord was scheduled to go tomorrow, but his execution's been postponed for three whole months," answered the second guard. "I'll be glad to see him go. He gave us loads of trouble when we brought him in."

"Wasn't he thrown into solitary last week?" asked the first guard.

"Yeah, all the way on the other side of the prison on the bottom level," replied the second guard. "Can't wait to be rid of him."

There was silence for several moments. The guards had just unknowingly given us the location of our target, making our job somewhat easier.

"Well, I suppose we should get back to our posts," the first guard said.

"Yeah, we don't wanna end up executed ourselves for slacking off," agreed the second guard. We heard the clanking of their armor as they left the room until there was silence once again.

Torgron nodded to the rest of us before placing his hand on the doorknob once again. He slowly pushed open the wooden door, and we all crept our way inside.

We were in what appeared to be a guard quarters. A few beds sat against the walls, several chests and weapon racks were placed next to an unlit fireplace. A desk with countless scraps of parchment stood at the far end of the room. I walked over to it to investigate, and that was when I spotted a map of the whole prison.

"Guys, check this out," I muttered.

The others came over and I handed the wrinkled map to Torgron.

"Good find Drelas," Torgron said with a smirk. "Looks like we aren't too far away. We just need to make our way over to the western side of the prison. The solitary section is on the very bottom level. Let's hope we continue to go unnoticed."

We left the guard quarters through another door and continued to sneak our way through the darkness of the prison. We came across a few more guards who were swiftly and silently taken out before they could even get a chance to see us. I always had my bow gripped firmly in my hand, ready to bring down anyone at a moment's notice.

We pressed onwards, down to the bowels of the prison. The corridors grew ever darker the further we went. If it weren't for the odd torch sconce on the wall, we wouldn't have been able to see a thing amidst the blackness. Completely devoid of any light, this area of the prison brought unease to my heart. A persistent, dreary feeling surged all through me, almost like my sanity was slowly being eaten away by a horde of insects. I couldn't even begin to imagine myself locked in a place like this. Trapped in pure darkness and isolation. A place like this was enough to break the will of even the strongest men.

Upon finally reaching the bottom level of the prison, we could make out the figures of three guards from the flames of the lit torches. They stood completely oblivious to our presence. Lorian, Valryn and I each nocked an arrow to our bows and picked a target. After giving a nod to one another, we simultaneously loosened our arrows and watched as they effortlessly planted themselves into each of the guards. They let out a short yelp of pain before dropping dead to the floor.

Looking around, I could see we had reached the solitary section of the prison. The room was almost completely shrouded in darkness. Torgron and Lorian each grabbed a torch off the wall to provide some light. The doors to the cells were completely encased in solid iron; narrow slits near the top provided the only source of light at all.

"He must be in here," said Torgron. "Everyone look for him. I don't wanna spend a minute in here longer than we have to."

I began looking through the slits of the doors one by one in the hopes of finding the prisoner. Any moment I was expecting a huge wave of guards to burst in and take us all out. Nothing but the dreary echo of our footsteps could be heard in those dark halls. I wasn't finding any signs of our Nord prisoner. Every cell I peered into was empty.

"Over here!" Lorian said. We all scurried over to the cell the Bosmer was standing in front of. "I think he's in here."

"Sargoth, use the keys you took from the guard to get the door open," Torgron said.

I took the key ring off my belt and tried around three or four of them before finding the right one. The lock made a loud click, and I easily twisted the metal knob and pulled the door open. Sure enough, there was our prisoner. I immediately noticed his flaming red hair as well as the paint under his eye.

The Nord stood up in surprise. "What the…? Who in Oblivion are you guys?!"

"Relax," Torgron ordered. "We're here to rescue you and get you out of here. Your Dunmer friend in Raven Rock sent us."

"How did you manage to sneak past the guards all the way down here?" the Nord asked.

"That's not important," Torgron replied. "Your friend is paying us a nice sum of gold to get you out of here, and that's what I intend to do. I hope you're not gonna make me drag you out of here, because I will."

"Don't worry, I trust you guys," said the Nord prisoner. "I just…wasn't actually expecting anyone to rescue me from this shithole."

"Just stick with us Nord, and you'll be fine," said Valryn.

"Thank you," said the Nord. "My name is Lorthis by the way. How do you intend to get out of this place?"

"We came in through the sewers underground," I answered. "Our best bet would be to go back the way we came."

Torgron unsheathed a spare sword from his belt and handed it to Lorthis.

"You good to fight?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so," said Lorthis. "My sword arm might be a bit flabby, but these blasted guards won't stand a chance against me."

Just then, I could hear the loud clanking of footsteps rapidly drawing closer to our position. Valryn, Lorian and I readied our bows at the rear, while the two Nords took their stance in front of us. The guards were almost there, their footsteps growing louder with every second. Finally, a squad of seven guards burst through the door and drew their swords upon spotting us.

"Kill them!" one of them ordered. "The prisoner must not be allowed to escape!"

The guards charged at us, and I along with the other two Mer released our arrows, bringing down three of the guards right there. Torgron spun his axe gracefully through the air and knocked a guard right off his feet before decapitating him. I drew my sword and charged forward to help the Nords. Lorthis was holding up well, he was swiftly dodging the weapons of the prison guards with ease. Valryn released another arrow from his bow, hitting a guard in the knee and causing him to stagger.

A guard leapt forward at me, our blades clashed together as I stared through the eyelids of his helmet. The guard swung at me again, and I leapt to the side and made a small incision through his armor with my sword. He let out an angry grunt of pain before regaining his footing. He began swinging recklessly at me, and I effortlessly dodged his every blow. I rolled over to the side, and catching him off guard I was able to drive my sword right through his back. He fell limp as a board to the floor, and I saw Torgron violently decapitate another guard.

We painlessly finished off the rest of the guards.

"I think we've overstayed our welcome," Valryn said.

"We need to get out of here now," Torgron said urgently. "Surely more guards will be on the way."

Our group ascended back to the top level of the prison and made our way back through the cell blocks. Sure enough, more guards were there to greet us.

I shot a burst of flame at them, and Valryn took that opportunity to throw his dagger, killing a guard instantly. Torgron bellowed a vicious battle cry before charging the guards with his monstrous axe. Two guards fell by his swing, and the rest of us rushed forward to help the Nord.

The guards were helpless against our combined strength and ferocity. One by one they fell, until they were nothing but a pile of corpses. We quickly exited the corridor and made our way back to the torture chamber where we originally came in from the sewer.

"I've been in here more times than I care to admit," said Lorthis solemnly.

"If everything goes well, you'll be a free man soon enough," said Torgron. "Come on."

After getting the hatch open, we all descended back down the opening and into the depths of the sewer. Finding our way back was much easier, all we had to do was follow the torches I had lit previously.

We found ourselves back in the large room with the circular platform in the water. As we continued to run, a single arrow whizzed past us, barely missing my face. Our group stopped and readied our weapons. My heart was racing once again. Sweat was pouring down my face like a rushing waterfall, my breaths rapid and unsteady. We all waited with dreaded anticipation for the owner of the arrow to show themself, to emerge from the darkness of the shadows.

Almost from nowhere, four figures leapt from above onto the platform on which we stood. They blocked all the exits, and they drew their weapons in unison.

The attackers wore suits of dark armor I had never seen before. It looked like a variation of the Chitin armor common to Morrowind. They all wore strange helmets that obscured their faces from view.

"Kill all of them," one of the attackers ordered with a hoarse voice. Soon enough, the mysterious attackers charged us, and we all stood together in a close defensive formation.

The attackers were very fast, moving at an almost blinding speed. One of the assailants who wielded twin daggers leapt towards me and swung, I was barely able to dodge the vicious strike. I swung my sword but struck only air as my assailant spun elegantly through the air and dodged my blows with ease. Before I could react, I felt his boot hit me in the side, and I tumbled to the ground.

These were no ordinary mercenaries or killers; they were too well trained to be just a regular band of brigands. These people fought like professionals, they moved like the wind and struck with a deadly precision that only highly trained assassins could. I was able to get back up, but not before the assailant managed to make a small cut across my side.

I winced as the pain in my side began flaring like a searing flame. I struggled to resist the urge to just drop to the ground, but to do so would only end in my death. I bravely stood my ground, and my assailant twirled his daggers between his fingers. Our blades clashed several times, both of us leaping like animals through the air to dodge each other's attacks. I was able to knock one of the daggers from my attacker's hand, and I then kicked him to the ground. I rushed forward to finish him off, but Torgron beat me to it. I saw the Nord's axe glide gracefully through the air, and next thing I knew, my assailant's head was rolling from his shoulders and into the water.

Before I had a chance to thank the Nord, another of the attackers jumped towards me. Valryn ran over to help me, and we both held our blades firmly in our hands as we waited for our assailant to strike. As expected, the trained killer had no trouble keeping up with Valryn and I. We swung our blades with perfect coordination, but the attacker was always able to dodge our blows. He stood in front of us with a stance of arrogance, taunting us to attack. We swung our blades, but suddenly a greenish light flickered in the attacker's hand, and he suddenly vanished.

Valryn and I frantically began looking around for our attacker. After a moment, he re-emerged behind us and knocked us both to the ground. He laughed menacingly as he approached us. Just then, I saw an arrow from Lorian pierce the assailant's shoulder. He dropped for a moment, but regained his footing with relative ease. Valryn and I reengaged him, sparks flying as our blades clashed together.

The attacker swung for my head, and I ducked just in time as his strike missed me. I saw Valryn thrust his blade forward and he pierced the assailant's abdomen. I sprung back up and spun in the air, my blade landing a swift, clean strike across his chest. The attacker howled in pain as he bled. I impaled him through his heart, and he dropped as his life left him.

I looked over to see Torgron and Lorthis who had finished off the third assassin, and then we all ganged up on the last one. With pure adrenaline burning within us like a blazing inferno, we made short work of the last assassin.

As our attackers all lay dead on the ground, we sheathed our weapons and took a moment to recover from the exhaustion.

"Who in Oblivion were _they_?" I asked. "They fought like trained assassins!"

Lorian walked over to one of the corpses before responding.

"I recognize this armor from anywhere," the Bosmer said as Torgron stood next to him.

"Who are they?" Valryn asked nervously.

Torgron turned to us with a grim look in his one eye.

"The Morag Tong."

I stood in disbelief. No wonder they were so well trained. They were as cunning and ruthless as the Dark Brotherhood, except they actually operated within the law. I knew that our mission was only going to get harder from this point.

"Why the hell would the _Tong_ be after us?!" asked Lorian.

"I don't know," said Torgron. "But it doesn't matter, we have to get out of here before more of them show up."

Our group of five scurried like rats all the way back through the filthy sewers. I still couldn't believe that the infamous Morag Tong themselves were after us. I knew that there just had to be more of them waiting for us outside.

"You all right buddy?" Valryn asked me.

"I'm fine Val, thanks. You?"

"Couldn't be better!" my fellow Dunmer joked.

* * *

We eventually made our way back to the entrance of the sewer and we hurriedly climbed back up the ladder and came above ground once more. We all started running frantically away from the area, but the Morag Tong unfortunately had not given up yet.

A flurry of arrows brushed past our heads, missing us by mere inches. We stopped and readied our weapons for the inevitable battle that was about to take place. The assassins emerged from the shadows ahead of us. They strode slowly, but confidently towards us. Although I couldn't see their faces through their helmets, I knew that their eyes burned with malice and hatred. A ruthless determination festered within each of the assassins; I knew that a bloody battle was ahead of us.

The front most Tong assassin raised his arms and unleashed a barrage of ice magic upon our group. I tried to move, but soon found my limbs refusing to cooperate with me. My arms and legs were completely stiff as a board. I saw that the rest of the group was unable to move either. No matter how much we struggled against the magic, none of us could budge an inch. We were totally frozen in place, helpless and unable to defend ourselves.

Another of the assassins shot forth a burst of flame and scattered our group apart. The Tong assassins then leapt high in the air and surrounded us from all sides. Able to move once again, we all raised our weapons in the air, our steel giving off a luminous glow beneath the gaze of the moons.

The assassins then ferociously charged at us with unmatched fury. Valryn and I stuck together as we each fended off a Tong agent, and I could see Torgron holding off two of them at once with the hilt of his axe. The Tong were fast, skilled, precise, and coordinated. Every move they made was flawless; every strike was in perfect synchronization with the rest of the group. We were already starting to become exhausted, but the Tong hadn't even broken a sweat.

A Tong assassin dual-wielding a pair of swords ran at me. He leapt in the air as I swung my blade and knocked me in the face with his hand. Twirling his blades in his hands, he spun smoothly through the air and made two slits across my leg. As blood began oozing out of me, I saw Valryn hit my assailant in the head with the hilt of his blade. The assassin looked like he barely felt it, and he swung his blades at Valryn, barely missing the Dunmer.

I looked over and saw a fallen Tong assassin, dead by Torgron's hand. Lorthis was holding himself well, and Lorian moved with a graceful speed that nearly matched the Tong's. Ignoring the pain searing through my leg, I got back up to aid Valryn. I saw Valryn get kicked to the ground, and before the assassin was able to finish him off, I swung my blade and made a clean slash across his back. The assassin screamed in pain, and that was when Valryn and I spun in opposite directions, our blades intersecting one another as they severed the head of the wounded Tong agent.

I saw another assassin fall as two of Lorian's arrows struck his chest. Another of the Tong lunged at me, and I just narrowly dodged the swift attack. This assassin was shorter than the rest of them, but he was faster and I struggled to keep up.

I twirled my blade in my hand before swinging at my attacker's head. He ducked and thrust his sword forward at me. I reacted in time to deflect the strike with my own sword. Catching the assassin off guard, I kicked him in the chest and caused him to stagger. As I ran forward, the assassin unexpectedly swept his leg around and tripped me onto my back. I looked to the side to see that most of the other Tong agents were lying dead.

The assassin regained his stance and raised his blade and swung viciously. I was able to block the attack however, and I rolled to the side and got back up to my feet. The assassin and I circled each other in an intense standoff. I could tell he was getting frustrated as we stared each other down. His next series of attacks were reckless, unfocused, inaccurate, and sloppy. I blocked each attack easily, and I could see the exhaustion beginning to overtake my opponent.

The assassin gave one final, desperate strike, and that is when I knocked his blade from his hand. I seized my advantage and spun around, bringing my blade straight clean across his abdomen. I looked to see that our group had finished off all the other Tong assassins.

Clutching his gaping wound, the assassin fell to the ground. His breaths grew more and more desperate as be bled violently. Wanting to see the face of my attacker before I finished him off, I slowly removed his helmet, and it was then that I saw that he was actually a she.

I could see tears of fear flowing from the woman's hazel eyes, her long russet hair blowing in her face. Our eyes locked together, and I couldn't help but notice she looked so….young, and afraid. She looked younger than me even; I figured she couldn't have been any older than seventeen. She struggled to stifle her sobs as she winced in pain, still clutching her heavily bleeding wound. A minute ago, I was so eager to end this person's life, but upon looking into those wide, frightful eyes, I suddenly found myself uncertain of what to do. Doubt gnawed away at my heart and mind. Looking at her face, I remembered there was a human being under that helmet. A living, breathing person who had thoughts, feelings, dreams, and fears just like me. Seeing this woman suddenly writhing in pain and fear caused guilt to erupt within me, and I was no longer sure of myself.

I looked over at Torgron who stood over the deceased Tong agents. He gazed back at me with a stern look in his eye.

"It's up to you Sargoth," the Nord said calmly. "You defeated her. Whether she lives or dies is your choice to make."

I looked back to my fallen opponent who was staring at me helplessly like a dog just beaten by its master. She said nothing to me, but her eyes told me more than words ever could. She was afraid, and she was silently begging for mercy.

My emotions were boiling inside of me like a pool of lava in a volcano. There was no running away from this, no denying it. I had a choice to make; this defeated woman's fate was entirely in my hands. I looked at her once more as I pressed the cold metal of my sword against her exposed neck.


	20. Silenced

I could feel the weight of my decision heavily upon me, like the whole world had suddenly been thrown onto my shoulders. I felt like the flow of time itself had stopped that very moment. I felt as if the entire world was watching me, the stars and the moons themselves were staring straight at me with deathly anticipation. My thoughts and emotions were waging a fierce war within me, like two massive armies clashing together amidst a vast battlefield. Never before had I felt so conflicted over a decision. I could feel the tension and anxiety within me slowly ripping me apart.

"You know your choice, Sargoth," said Torgron in his best effort to be encouraging. "You know of the consequences. Do what you feel is right, what your heart tells you to do." The Nord's words did very little to ease the pain boiling inside of me.

Before me, lying on the ground was the Morag Tong assassin I had defeated. I continued to hold my blade against her throat lest she decide to make any unexpected moves. That look of fear and desperation was still present on her face; tears were still streaming from her eyes as the life slowly began to fade from them. Her breaths became more frantic as she continued to massage her wound, a yelp of pain escaped her lips as blood continued to seep from her abdomen.

_I should kill her_, I thought. _She made an attempt on our lives. Her and her guild tried to murder us in cold blood. She deserves nothing more than to feel the sting of death and feel the judgement of whatever gods she believes in_.

The logic within my mind made it perfectly clear what I should do. I knew that the safest option for us was to kill this woman. It was so painfully clear. So why was I struggling so much in making a decision? What in the name of Oblivion was stopping me from just slitting her throat with my sword? It should have been an easy choice. Just one flick of my blade, and this would all be over. One smooth slice across her throat, and she would never threaten our group again.

The woman coughed up a few drops of blood as she finally attempted to speak.

"P-please," she said with an almost inaudible whisper. "Don't….kill me." The crimson blood on her armor glistened under the pale moonlight.

"Give me _one_ good reason why I shouldn't," I said calmly, but angrily.

"I can….I can help you," she struggled to say. "Please…don't let me bleed to death." Her face contorted as the pain continued to sear her body.

"And why would you help _us_?" I asked. "You're part of one of the most notorious groups of killers in Tamriel. What's to stop you from slitting all our throats the second we go to sleep?"

"I say kill this bitch and be done with it," said Lorian eagerly. "Or let her bleed out. I honestly couldn't care less."

"What if there are more of them?" inquired Valryn.

I knew the Dunmer had a point.

"Are there more of you?" I asked the female assassin.

She nodded her head. "Y-yes. We…we have a camp a few m-miles south. I'll take you…to them." She coughed up more blood and I could tell every word she spoke brought her immense pain.

"What do you make of this, Torgron?" I asked the Nord.

"She deserves to die, that much is clear," answered Torgron as he adjusted his eye-patch. "But if there are more of them, they will certainly have to be dealt with before they have a chance to retaliate. If this girl is in fact telling the truth and is willing to take us to them, that would most certainly be helpful. Like I said before though, the choice is yours. If you do decide to kill her, we can find her friends on our own."

I appreciated the encouragement from Torgron, but my mind was still conflicted nonetheless. I looked back down to the assassin, my blade still pressed against her neck. She let out another cry as her pain grew more intense. Unable to bear her agonized screams any longer, I lifted my sword from her throat and sheathed it into my belt.

I knelt down beside the assassin and reached into my bag. After digging through the contents for a moment, I pulled out a red vial containing a healing potion.

"Drink it," I ordered as I handed her the small bottle. She immediately complied and uncorked the vial before bringing the liquid to her mouth.

The woman consumed the whole drink within seconds, and almost instantly I could see her blood drying up and the wound beginning to fade. After letting out several more coughs, she began to recover her strength and slowly, she sat up.

"Th-thank you," she said with relief in her voice.

"Don't thank us yet," snapped Torgron as he began to walk towards her. He pulled out two strands of rope from his belt.

"Torgron, what are you doing?!" I asked.

"I'm sorry, but I don't trust her yet," replied the Nord as he bound the woman's hands behind her back. "Can't have her running back to her superiors and giving them our exact location now, can we?"

The assassin said nothing, nor did she resist in any way. She was probably still too weak to do so anyways. Torgron moved down to her feet and tightly wrapped his rope around her ankles, making the woman completely immobile.

"Lorian, get a fire going. We need to come up with a plan to take out the rest of these assassins. Not to mention, I'm bloody starving," said Torgron as he finished tying up the woman and sat her upright.

The Bosmer complied and quickly started a fire after gathering some wood. Valryn began setting up the tent and laying out the bedrolls. Torgron began boiling some water in a pot and he threw in some ingredients to make a stew. I could already smell the aroma which made my stomach grumble.

* * *

Nightfall had overtaken the land. The embers of our campfire danced gracefully as the smoke billowed into the air. Small sparks shot from the burning flame, flickering in the air for a split second before vanishing entirely. The dark sky was quite clear that night, only a small handful of stars could be seen shining above. The glow of the waning Masser and Secunda was faint, their gazes unable to penetrate the dark swirling mists of the night.

I sat in the tent as the others remained outside to keep watch over the area. I was instructed to watch over the assassin, who was sitting in the corner bound helplessly. I was slowly eating away at the stew in my bowl. The hot broth in combination with the campfire was keeping me quite warm. I was still worn out from our battle with the Morag Tong. Looking over my arms and legs, I saw several discolored bruises accompanied by small cuts and gashes.

I looked over to the assassin sitting only a few feet away from me. Her disheveled long hair was sitting messily in front of her face, almost shielding it completely from view. Kneeling down in front of her and brushing her hair away, I could see a few patches of blood on her face. I grabbed a cloth and wet it with some water, and then I reached my hand towards her to clean the blood off her face. The woman pulled her head back away from me.

"Those wounds need to be cleaned before they become infected," I said gently. "Please, I promise I'm not going to hurt you."

She gave me a look of distrust and worry, but after a moment she relented and let me wipe the blood off.

"You always lived in Morrowind?" I asked in curiosity.

The woman was silent at first before answering.

"No," was all she said.

"Where did you come from?" I was trying to break the ice somewhat and make her feel a little more comfortable.

"My parents originally lived in Cyrodiil," the woman began. "They moved to Valenwood at the beginning of the Oblivion Crisis, and that's where I was born and raised for most of my life."

As I continued to wipe the blood of the Tong assassin's face, I was suddenly reminded of my mother and how she would always tend to me after one of Ghorzag's beatings. The way she would soothe the searing pain, the way her smooth, gentle hands would softly caress my skin as she washed away my wounds. Her voice, so calm, so loving, a voice more melodic than the softest lullaby, more gentle than the faint whispers of the swaying trees against the wind. That voice would always speak kind words of encouragement to me. Words of hope. Words of strength. Words of comfort. Words of love. No matter how painful or cruel Ghorzag's beatings may have been, my mother was always able to ease the pain, both inside and outside. When rage was burning within me like a roaring fire, she was always the water that would put it out. Whenever my heart was shrouded in darkness and felt like a void of emptiness, she was the ray of light that would fill it and shine brighter than the sun itself.

I was completely lost in thought that moment, peacefully reminiscing about times gone by. I always wondered if ma could see me, if she was watching me right that moment. What would she think of the path I had chosen in life? What would she think of my decision to join the Crimson Serpents? She always told me that my life was my own, that my choices were mine to make, and that my destiny was mine to forge within the currents of time. I always valued those words highly, but I still had a persistent feeling inside of me that my mother would have wanted something different for me. Something that was a little more, perhaps say, honest. I couldn't help but feel that ma would have been disappointed with my choices, but it was too late to turn back now. This was the life I had chosen, and for the first time, I felt truly happy. This was where I belonged, and that was all that mattered to me then.

My drifting mind was drawn back to reality by the sound of footsteps coming inside the tent. I looked over to see Torgron kneeling down in front of the opening.

"How's everything in here Sargoth?" he asked. "She givin you any trouble?"

"No Torgron, everything's fine in here," I answered him.

"Give her something to eat," the Nord said. "I'd imagine she's probably famished from the battle earlier. We're all gonna sleep for a few hours, and I suggest you do the same. Then we'll discuss how we're gonna get rid of the rest of these assassins." Torgron left us alone, and I finished cleaning the blood off the woman's face.

"You hungry?" I asked her. She nodded her head. "You can have the rest of my stew. You probably need it more than I do."

"Thank you," she said softly, but graciously.

"If I untie you, will you promise not to stab me and take off running?" I asked.

"Yes," she responded immediately, "you have my word."

I quickly undid the ropes around her wrists and ankles and she stretched her limbs as she was able to move them once again. I handed her my stew and she gave me a faint smile.

"So what's your name anyway?" I asked.

"Mailena," she answered. "Mailena Raven-Wing."

"A Nordic name," I said.

"I'm only half-Nord, actually," said Mailena. "My father was Breton, my mother a Nord."

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen," Mailena answered.

"That's a bit young to be with the Morag Tong isn't it?" I asked surprisingly.

"I was…forced to kill in self-defence a few years ago," said Mailena. "Someone else witnessed the incident, and he happened to be a Morag Tong agent. He was impressed with my skill, said I had a natural talent. He offered me a place with the Tong right then, and I spent those years honing my skills in assassination."

"And why are you so willing to just turn against them like this?" I asked skeptically. "I mean, you're being a little _too_ cooperative, and it makes me think you've got a trick up your sleeve."

"I know you don't trust me," Mailena admitted. "I never felt right in the Tong. I mean, I enjoyed my first few months with them, but after a while I realized I never really got along with anybody. It wasn't the life I wanted, but I guess I was just too afraid to leave. Maybe this will give me a chance to start fresh."

"Understandable enough," I said.

"I know you guys want revenge for these attacks, and I'm more than willing to help you do it. If it means having my life spared, I'll gladly kill all of them myself," said Mailena.

"I'm not the one that needs to be convinced, unfortunately," I told her. "Torgron is the one you need to prove yourself to."

"Is he the Nord?" Mailena asked.

"Yeah. Torgron Wolf-Scar."

"Who are the other two?"

"The Dunmer is Valryn Sarenthis, and the Bosmer is Lorian. I'm Sargoth Drelas."

"So are you guys part of a gang or a guild or something like that?"

I thought for a moment. I wasn't sure I should have been telling Mailena about us, just in case she was intending to double-cross after all. But for some reason, my gut told me that she could be trusted, and that she had no malicious intents.

"We're part of a group called the Crimson Serpents," I explained. "We're based in Cyrodiil, way up north in the Jerall Mountains. Only a few miles away from Skyrim actually."

"What exactly do you do?"

"Anything, really," I said. "We kill, steal, spy, kidnap, or in this case rescue. Anything that pays really."

After talking about ourselves for a few more minutes, Mailena went to sleep, undoubtedly tired from the battle with us. I followed suit soon after. We were all going to need as much sleep as we could get for the battle that awaited us.

I'm not sure how long I slept for, but I knew that it was over too quickly. I woke up to Torgron's boot thumping me in the side. Feeling groggy and tired still, I struggled to open my eyes, almost having to force them open.

"Up and at em Sargoth," said the Nord. "We've got assassins that need to be dealt with. The rest of us are already discussing plans." Torgron looked over to Mailena. "You too, girl! We're gonna need you for this plan to work." Mailena quickly woke up from her slumber as Torgron left the tent.

After taking a minute to fully wake myself up, I slipped outside into the darkness of the night where the others were already gathered around the campfire. Mailena was following behind me, and we both took our seats around the warm blaze.

"You sure this is a good idea Torgron?" Lorian asked. "Just attacking a camp of highly trained murderers? You know we just barely beat them in that last battle."

The Wood Elf had a point. Although we had beaten the Tong just a few hours previous, they still managed to beat us down pretty hard, and we were all still quite exhausted.

"I would have agreed with you a few hours ago Lorian," said Torgron. "But now, we have an unexpected advantage."

"And what is that?" asked Lorian.

Torgron fixed his stern gaze to Mailena. "Her."

Right away I knew what Torgron had in mind.

"The Tong don't know that we have the girl," the Nord began. "If she can slip her way back into the camp, perhaps butter them up a little, then we'll have a much better chance of taking them by surprise."

"Mailena," she interjected. "My name's Mailena."

Torgron's face flashed a look of slight annoyance. "Right, of course," was all he said.

"So you want me to go back to the Tong's camp?" she asked. "You realize I could be walking to my death."

"That ain't my problem missy!" the Nord shot back. "The only reason you're not a corpse already is because of dear ol' Sargoth here! He might have spared you, but my axe is always thirsty for more blood. And I would have no qualms about burying it in your chest. If you want to keep breathing, you _will_ do as we tell you. Any part of that that was unclear?"

Mailena was silent, her eyes teeming with fear. "No," was all she said.

"Good," said Torgron.

"So what should I do once I get to the camp?"

"See if you can get close to whoever's in charge," answered Torgron. "Tell them that you were the only survivor of the battle and you were able to get away. Get them comfortable, make them lower their guard. Then once their back is turned, kill them."

"This is the Morag Tong you're talking about here," said Mailena. "They'll kill me in a matter of seconds as soon as they realize I've turned against them."

"The rest of us will take cover around the camp. We'll be watching everything that happens. Once you do your part, we'll emerge from our hiding spots and commence the attack. With their leader taken out, they'll hopefully be thrown into disarray."

"This is still a dangerous plan," said Lorthis who was seated next to Torgron. "Even if we do take them by surprise, there could be way more at that camp than we anticipated."

"That's a chance I'm willing to take," said Torgron. "I know this is risky, but if we don't act now, the Tong will strike even harder than last time. We won't survive another ambush like that. We have to bring the fight to them."

The camp was silent. None of us liked this plan. We had no idea how many Tong assassins would be waiting for us at that camp. We could very well have been walking to a slaughter. But Torgron was right; we had to attack them before they regained their strength and retaliated.

"Do you know who hired the Tong to kill us in the first place, Mailena?" asked Lorian.

"I'm afraid not," she answered. "The only one who would know that is whoever is in charge of the camp. I can try and find out before we spring our attack."

"Good thinking," said Torgron. "I'd like to find out who the bastard is that sent these killers after us and why."

We were silent once more for a few minutes.

"Don't forget the mission though guys," Torgron instructed. "We are to safely deliver Lorthis to our client. That Dunmer is counting on us, and our reputation is on the line. Everybody understand the plan?"

We all nodded our heads in unison.

"Good. Ready yourselves and gather your equipment. We strike now. Talos watch over us all."

After gathering all our weapons and equipment, we doused our campfire and set off into the dead of night. Our minds were clouded by fear, unease. We were directly challenging the Morag Tong, one of the most notorious guilds of assassins in Tamriel. I was fully aware that I could be dead within the hour. The worst part of the whole thing was the waiting, the fear of the unknown, the fear of what was going to happen. For all we knew, the Tong could be expecting us. They could have already laid out a trap for us, and were just waiting for us to walk right into it. We may have been hunting them, but I knew that in only seconds that could all change, and we would be the ones being hunted.

Mailena was in the greatest danger though. She would be walking straight into the arms of the Tong; she would be staring into the eyes of death itself. I hoped for all our sakes that her acting skills were passable, because if they weren't, our whole plan could very well be ruined.

The journey was uneventful and monotonous, which honestly only served to add to my anxiety. The calm before the storm I guess you could say. I just wanted to get this mission over with already. Whether we succeeded or we died, I didn't even care at this point. I just wanted the fear to stop. No one spoke to each other the whole way there. Only our footsteps crunching against the ground could be heard, as well as the distant, eerie calls of the nocturnal wildlife. I lit up my pipe and had a quick smoke in an attempt to relax myself.

* * *

Soon enough after spending an hour or two crossing across the barren, ashen fields of Morrowind, I could see a cloud of smoke billowing on the horizon. We made our way to the top of a tall hill and took cover amongst the bushes. Below us a fair distance away, I could make out several tents that were set up. I could see a few assassins conversing with each other by the campfire, and at least a dozen more were standing guard around the campsite. I figured more were probably asleep inside the tents. This battle was most certainly going to give us a run for our money.

"This must be it," whispered Valryn.

"Aye," said Torgron in agreement.

I looked over at Mailena and I could see the fear in her expression. I knew this couldn't have been easy for her, but it was the only way we were going to take the Morag Tong by surprise. And besides, she said that we could trust her, that she would fight by our side. Now was her chance to prove it.

"How you feeling?" I asked her.

"Terrified, to be honest," she answered. "I don't know if I can do this."

"You'll be fine," I assured her. "Just try to act as normal as you can. And try to act wounded as well, that might make you a bit more believable."

"I will," said Mailena.

Our group of six all stared down at the Tong's campsite, getting familiar with the layout and deciding the best angle from which to strike. My heart rate shot right up, and I could almost feel my blood boiling with panic within my veins.

"All right, here's what we'll do," began Torgron. "Sargoth and Valryn, both of you head left and take cover with your arrows at the ready. Lorian, you head right and do the same. Lorthis and I will move ahead a ways and take cover there. Mailena, you know what you have to do."

"Right," she replied.

Torgron muttered a prayer to Talos and then motioned for us to move.

Valryn and I moved silently towards our spot in a low crouch. I could barely hear the chatter of the Tong assassins standing guard at the camp, who were still hopefully oblivious to our presence.

"Exciting isn't it?" asked Valryn.

"How the hell do you _possibly_ find this exciting?" I retorted. "We're about to go up against the bloody Morag Tong here. You should be scared to death."

"Well, I am nervous," Valryn said back. "But I guess I just get a bit of a thrill from this whole thing as well. I mean, I just never expected a prison break mission to turn into a fight against the Morag Tong."

I looked below to the camp once again and I could see Mailena beginning to make her way to her former comrades. She strode with hesitance, and I could tell that her nerves must have been on fire that moment. As she approached the camp, I could see several of the Tong walk slowly towards her. One of them began to draw his weapon, but quickly put it away again upon seeing her armor.

I could see Mailena beginning to speak with the assassins that approached her, although I was unable to hear their exact words. I then saw someone who I presumed to be the leader of the group walking towards her. He was without a helmet, and I could see he was Dunmer due to his glowing red eyes. Torgron and Lorthis were crouched in a group of bushes slightly ahead of us. He gestured for us to ready our bows. Valryn and I quickly did so, and I saw Lorian across from us doing the same.

I could almost hear my heart racing within me, steadily increasing its pace with every passing second. My breaths were frantic, but I was able to calm myself down after a moment and keep my fear under control. We all knew what was going to happen next. Our plan was officially being put into action, the wheels of motion were spinning now, and nothing would stop them. We were all waiting for Mailena to make her move against the Tong leader.

Nothing happened for the first minute or two. I could hear the voices faintly in the distance. Everybody in the camp was fairly relaxed with little tension between them. They still believed that Mailena was one of them.

"If she turns against us, if she tells them we're here, it'll be the death of us all," whispered Valryn with cynicism.

"She won't," I replied.

"How can you be sure?"

"I just am."

Several more moments passed. The anticipation was almost killing me at this point. The conversation between Mailena and the Tong carried on, and then that is when she made her move.

Mailena swiftly unsheathed her dagger and swung straight for the Tong leader's throat. Unfortunately however, he was much quicker than we had expected. He grabbed her arm mid-strike and kicked the woman to the ground. The surrounding Tong agents drew their weapons.

"Now!" shouted Torgron.

I, Valryn and Lorian fired our arrows simultaneously, quickly taking out the assassins who were moving on Mailena. Torgron and Lorthis emerged from the cover of the bushes and dashed towards the camp that was now on full alert. The three Mer fired several more shots into the camp as we made our way down to reinforce the Nords. Mailena regained her ground, and the Tong leader fled into his tent, leaving the fighting to his henchmen.

A team of two Tong assassins charged at me with fury, swinging their swords through the air towards me. I was able to leap out of the way, and their attacks both missed me. Though their faces were hidden by their helmets, I knew their eyes were burning with a fire of hatred, their blades thirsty for blood.

I was deflecting the blows of both assassins with my sword; sparks flew through the air as the steel of our weapons clashed together. Their strikes were swift and precise; keeping up with them was proving to be difficult. I leaped backwards in order to dodge another attack, and it was then I shot forth a burst of my flame spell at one of the assassins. He flailed around violently in an attempt to extinguish the flames, and I seized my chance and planted my sword straight through his heart. A short grunt of pain escaped his lips before falling lifelessly to the ground. The other assassin was distracted by all this, and he conveniently left himself wide open. I leaped forward and raised my sword high in the air. He tried to defend himself at the last second, but he was far too late. My blade came forth through the air, piercing his helmet and planting firmly into his skull. The assassin collapsed instantly as his life left him.

I looked around to see that three assassins had already been felled by Torgron. He and Lorthis stuck together through the battle, and they made a fine team. Mailena was holding up well, considering she was fighting her former guildmates. Two assassins had already fallen by her hand.

"Sargoth! Watch out!" I heard Valryn shout.

I turned my head to look behind me, and I felt a sharp blow pound against me. I fell to the ground as the pain throbbed violently inside of me. Disoriented and confused, I could barely make out what was going on around me. My vision was blurry, but I could make out the Tong assassin who had struck me so unexpectedly. He raised his sword in the air to finish me off, but Valryn bellowed a piercing cry and was able to block the attack, saving my life.

Their blades clashed together only inches above me, the steel ringing loudly through my ears. The assassin was caught off guard by Valryn's intervention, and the Dunmer seized the chance and thrust his sword right through the assassin's chest. Valryn then came over to me, lending me his hand and pulling me back up to my feet.

"Thanks buddy," I said graciously.

"Anytime, brother," the Dark Elf replied with a smile.

I looked around to see our group was actually holding up quite well against the Tong. Torgron and Lorthis slew several more of the assassins. Lorian was supporting us from the rear, his volley of arrows bringing down the assassins without mercy.

The leader of the campsite decided to join the battle, and he as well as three Tong agents circled around me and Valryn. We stood back-to-back with one another, our swords ready to meet the steel of our surrounding foes.

In a moment that almost seemed slow-motion, two of the assassins raised their blades through the misty air. A sharp ring pierced as our blades collided, echoing all throughout the night sky. Seeing that we were surrounded, Lorian sheathed his bow and ran to aid us as he drew his sword. He attempted to take one of the assassins from behind, but his target spotted him and was able to deflect the Bosmer's strike.

"I want these pests all dead!" the leader shouted with an angry, hoarse tone of voice.

The assassins came at us full force, the fires of hatred burning within their hearts. Their strikes were swift, performed almost effortlessly with deadly accuracy. I was struggling greatly to keep up with my opponent. My mind felt like it had shut down completely, like I was a wild animal acting on pure instinct. I had no time to think about what moves I made, I just simply swung my blade in accordance with the strikes of my opponent.

I shot forward a beam of my flame spell, and my opponent thrashed around wildly trying to extinguish the blaze from his armor. Valryn took the opportunity and drove his sword through the assassin's back. And then, unexpectedly I found myself being knocked to the ground forcefully. My head hit the ash and I was disoriented for several seconds. I looked up to see it was the leader of the campsite who had knocked me over. Our crimson eyes burned with an intense fury as our gazes locked together.

"You and your rabble have caused quite a bit of trouble for me today," said the leader, drawing a knife from his belt. "I'll teach you the full consequences of messing with the Morag Tong. By the grace of Lady Mephala, you shall die."

The weight of the Tong leader on top of me prevented me from moving at all. He gave a sinister chuckle as he raised his knife in the air, ready to drive it through my heart and end my life.

I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the pain that was surely to come. I prepared for the strike that would end my life, the strike that would send a searing pain throughout my body like a flame.

I waited, but the strike didn't come. There was no pain. Everything around me seemed to stop that very moment. My mind struggled to comprehend what was going on. I knew I should have been dead by now. The knife should have found its way deep in my heart. But there was no pain. I was not dead. The blow that should have ended my life never came.

I heard a shout of pain from the Tong leader, his knife falling to the ground. I opened my eyes and saw a sword had been plunged through the Tong leader's shoulder. Blood was seeping through his armor as he winced in pain. Upon regaining my focus, I looked behind the wounded assassin, and I saw that the one who wounded him was none other than Mailena.

The Tong leader fell to the ground still alive as Mailena pulled her sword out of his shoulder. I got back up and I saw that the rest of the camp had been eradicated.

"Thank you," I said to Mailena, giving her a faint smile.

"Don't mention it," the woman replied. "You spared my life. I figured it was the best way to repay you."

Our group all surrounded the Tong leader who was clutching his shoulder as he writhed in pain.

"Traitor!" he shouted at Mailena. "How could you do this to us, Mailena? After providing a home for you. After honing your skills to what they are. How could you simply turn against us like this?"

"The Tong was never my home," Mailena retorted sternly. "This was never the life I wanted, and you were never my family."

The Tong leader grunted in anger. "Mephala curse you!"

Torgron walked over to him and held his axe against his throat.

"Tell us what we want to know, and I'll make sure your death is swift," said the Nord. "Who hired you? Who sent you after us?"

The Tong leader simply snickered and spit on Torgron's boot.

The Nord firmly planted his foot upon the Tong leader's wounded shoulder. He howled in agony, and Torgron then raised his boot in the air, bringing it down against the wounded shoulder with a forceful stomp. The Tong leader's cries grew louder as I heard his shoulder break with a sickening crack.

"You have roughly twenty minutes before that bleeds out and you die of blood loss," said Torgron. "If you don't start talking to me, I will make it the most excruciating twenty minutes of your life."

"F-fine. What do you want to know?"

"Why are the Morag Tong after us, and who sent you?" asked Torgron, still holding his axe against the Tong leader's neck.

"He…he never gave his name."

Torgron was growing frustrated. "Did you at least see what he looked like?!"

"Yeah. It was some Dunmer, over in Raven Rock."

My jaw dropped in disbelief.

"You're lying!" shouted Torgron.

"No! I'm not! I swear I'm telling the truth!"

"How is that possible?!" Torgron yelled, sharing all of our disbelief. "We were hired by a Dunmer in Raven Rock to break into that prison and rescue Lorthis!"

_Could it possibly be the same one?_

The Tong leader gave a soft chuckle. "Looks like we've both been hired by the same man. Something tells me he hasn't been entirely honest with you, my brutish Nord friend. You and your prisoner were never meant to leave that prison."

Part of me still didn't believe the words of the Morag Tong agent. But I realized at this point, he had no reason to lie. Of course, the only question on my mind now was why? Why would the same client who hired us to rescue Lorthis, also hire the infamous Morag Tong to kill us? It didn't make any sense at all.

"What else do you know?" Torgron asked the Tong leader.

"Nothing else. I've told you everything I know."

Torgron lifted his hulking axe from the ground. "Then I'm afraid you are no longer of any use to me."

And with one swift motion, the axe of Torgron came down and the head of the Tong leader was rolling from his shoulders.

None of us said a word. We were all in shock and disbelief by this sudden revelation. The client who had entrusted this mission to us was now trying to have us killed. None of this made any sense to any of us. There were so many questions flooding through our heads, with no answers to quell them.

I looked over at Lorthis and saw the same puzzled expression on his face. After a moment though, his expression changed to indicate that perhaps he was starting to put the pieces of the puzzle together. I walked over to the dead Tong leader and found a couple crumpled pieces of paper on his person.

"Well, he definitely wasn't lying," I said. "Here's his Writ of Execution, with orders to exterminate Lorthis as well as the Crimson Serpents. There's also a note here, signed by a Malvarys Varseth. You know that name Lorthis?"

"Indeed I do," replied the Nord. "That's your client, and my partner. Well, ex-partner now I guess."

"You have some explaining to do, prisoner," said Torgron. "Why does your own partner want you dead? Why did he send us to rescue you if it was never his intention for you to _be_ saved?"

"Trust me, I'm as confused as you are," said Lorthis, "but I do have a theory on why he hired the Tong against us. But first, I should tell you exactly about what Malvarys and I do."

"We're listening," said Torgron.

"Well, simply put," Lorthis began, "Malvarys and I are slave traders. As you probably know, slavery is outlawed across most of Tamriel, but that doesn't mean there isn't an underground market for it. In fact, black market slavery hasn't been this much in demand for decades. Anyways, me and Malvarys specialized in trafficking captured individuals. Whether it be political prisoners, captured criminals, or even women and children forced into sexual servitude, we imported and exported people all across the provinces and sold them into slavery for a very hefty profit. Malvarys and I always split the payout fifty-fifty."

"So you were friends with Malvarys?" Torgron asked. "You trusted him?"

"Oh gods no," Lorthis scoffed. "You'll never meet a more shady or dishonest man than Malvarys Varseth, that's for damned sure. The man will do absolutely anything if it means more coins in his pocket. And to set the record straight, I never felt right about doing what we did. But I desperately needed the coin, and working with Malvarys kept my pockets full of it."

"We're not judging you Lorthis," said Torgron. "Everyone needs to make their coin somehow. How did you end up in prison anyway?"

"I was supervising a deal up in Skyrim at a small harbor north of Winterhold," said Lorthis. "Had two ships full of slaves ready to be transported to the Summerset Isles. Just after the ships depart, we're all surrounded by a swarm of guards. Mostly everyone was killed. I was arrested and due to my charges, was sent to the prison here in Morrowind you rescued me from and I was sentenced to execution."

"Interesting story," said Valryn.

"Now that I think about it, I wouldn't be surprised if Malvarys had a hand in my arrest. After all, he was conveniently absent from that deal. With me out of the picture, he got to keep all the profits for himself."

"So that still leaves the question of why he sent us to rescue you, while also sending the Tong to kill us," I stated.

"Malvarys must have already known that my execution was delayed, and he probably suspected that I was going to rat him out, perhaps in exchange for my execution being overturned or even being released. He sent the Morag Tong to kill me before that happened. He wanted me silenced."

"So why even bother sending us at all?" Torgron asked with confusion. "If he wanted you dead, why send us to rescue you?"

"To cover his tracks!" explained Lorthis. "Don't you understand? Think about it. He sends you, a gang of unknowns to the prison under the impression of rescuing me, while subsequently sending the Morag Tong to kill me as well as all of you when you arrived. That way, my death would simply look like a prison break gone wrong instead of an obvious assassination. The Tong would not have been implicated, and the murder would never make its way back to Malvarys. His involvement wouldn't even be suspected."

"That…actually kind of makes sense," I said. "But Malvarys also could have just sent us to kill you without involving the Tong at all. I mean, wouldn't it be easier just sending one group to the prison instead of two?"

"The Morag Tong are sworn to confidentiality when it comes to their clients," said Lorthis. "Malvarys probably didn't want to take the risk of you guys possibly exposing him to the authorities should you have been sent to kill me and been caught."

"We've got a clever son of a bitch on our hands," said Torgron. "In fact, I'm almost impressed. By sending the Tong, he ensures that you get killed, and by sending us as well, our deaths would cover the Tong's tracks as well as his."

"Exactly," said Lorthis.

"Except Malvarys made one mistake," said Torgron. "A mistake that's going to cost him his life. He underestimated the might of the Crimson Serpents. We killed his precious assassins, and we'll kill him as well. He can't hide from us."

This whole explanation seemed pretty far-fetched to me at first. But the more I began to think about it, the more sense it made. It was really the only theory that was remotely plausible of why the Morag Tong would attack us. Malvarys certainly went to great lengths to keep himself from being discovered.

"Any idea where he might have gone?" Mailena asked. I read the note again.

"The note from Malvarys mentions that he was going to a Fort Salthir, just a few miles west of Mournhold," I said.

"Then we know where to find that snake," said Torgron. "Let's go."

* * *

The journey to Fort Salthir took us a little over half a day. We traveled all night, making our way through the thick Morrowind mists. The morning brought a fierce ash storm which slowed us down significantly. For several hours we had to endure ruthless gusts of wind that blew the ashes right in our faces. The storm made it almost impossible to breathe. Finally around evening time, I could see a fort standing alone in the distance.

"This must be it," Lorian said.

"Looks like it," agreed Valryn.

"Doesn't look like there's anyone guarding the outside," I said.

"Still, we need to be careful," Lorthis warned. "Malvarys isn't anything if he isn't a coward. He's most certainly hired protection for himself in there, perhaps even the Tong themselves."

"I'd reckon you're right," said Torgron. "Let's go. I want to just kill Malvarys and be out of this wasteland as soon as possible." I was still staring at Fort Salthir. The dark, almost black stones were given a menacing appearance from the blowing ash of the storm.

"Mailena," Torgron said to the young woman. "You stayed true to your word, and you have fulfilled your debt to us. You're free to leave if you so wish. I won't ask you to follow us in there."

"No, I'm going," Mailena replied. "Malvarys betrayed you and hired the Morag Tong to kill you. He needs to die, and I'm going to help you. I won't take no for an answer."

Torgron smiled. "Very well. If we make it out of this alive, I will make sure you are rewarded. Thank you."

The inside of Fort Salthir was dark, musty, and damp. We had to grab a torch off the walls to even see where we were going. A large pile of rubble sat in the middle of the room. A winding staircase stood to the left, and it looked like it was about to crumble at any second. A thick haze sat above the cold, stone ground. I knew that would certainly help to hide our presence.

Our group slowly made our way up the old staircase, making sure each step we took made as little noise as possible. The halls of the ancient fort were deathly silent, which only made the atmosphere even more uneasy. I knew that enemies were waiting for us deep within the shadows, waiting like famished sabre cats for their prey to pass by so they could take it completely unawares. We were almost to the top of the stairs, and we all completely failed to notice the tripwire that was waiting for us. Valryn stepped right on the wire, and upon hearing the quick snap of the wire, I knew we had just sprung a trap.

"Move!" bellowed Torgron as he pushed Valryn from the path of the boulders that were now tumbling down the stairs. With a loud thud, the large rocks fell to the bottom of the staircase. Thankfully, no one was hurt.

"Fuck," said Valryn. "I should've known this place would be booby-trapped."

It was then that I heard voices coming toward us from the distance.

"Weapons ready guys," ordered Torgron. I drew my bow and nocked an arrow into place.

The footsteps were growing closer, louder. Our group waited silently at the top of the stairs, and it was then that three figures emerged from the shadows. I immediately recognized their armor and knew they were Morag Tong, just like Lorthis predicted.

"Kill them!" one of the assassins shouted.

They drew their weapons and charged our group. I released my arrow, sending it into the heart of the assassin closest to me. He fell to the floor with a thud.

These assassins must have been low-ranked, because they were easily dispatched. After the brief skirmish our group continued to sneak our way through the fog.

"No doubt that Malvarys is here," said Lorthis. "I knew the Tong would be here with him."

Fort Salthir was large, its hallways stretched in many directions. We passed through a wide corridor with jail cells on the sides. I could see the decayed bones of long deceased prisoners inside. Rats were scurrying about the ground; I could hear their tiny squeaks as they feasted merrily on the rotten remains. More Tong assassins attacked us as we continued through the fort. They were challenging and well-trained, but together with our group strength and determination, we were able to push through the waves of assassins and move forward.

After passing through one last hallway, we found ourselves in the middle of a large square room. Two staircases stood in front of us which went up to a wide ledge which went around the entire width of the room. I immediately realized this was the perfect spot for an ambush, and that a great battle would be inevitable.

"Well well!" I heard a voice shout from above. We looked up and saw a figure approaching us, which I instantly recognized to be Malvarys, our client who hired us in the first place and sent us on this mission. The man who had set us up from the start and arranged our deaths. The man who was now going to die for daring to pick a fight with the Crimson Serpents.

"I must admit, Torgron Wolf-Scar," the Dunmer began. "I underestimated the strength of your little gang. I am actually quite impressed you managed to defeat the Morag Tong and escape the prison."

"Malvarys!" shouted Lorthis as the Dunmer stood menacingly above us.

"Ah Lorthis, my dear friend," said Malvarys with a sneer. "I didn't expect to see you alive. Clearly the Tong have failed in their contract, and miserably I might add."

"These people saved me, Malvarys!" shouted the Nord. "We figured out your little scheme to have me killed. They helped me fight off the Morag Tong, and now they're going to help me kill you!"

Malvarys merely laughed mockingly. "I'm afraid _you_ will be the one to die here, Lorthis! You as well as your friends!" As the Dunmer spoke, I saw a swarm of Morag Tong assassins emerging from behind him, their weapons already unsheathed. Several more came from behind us, completely blocking any means of escape. I could sense the fury and determination in their eyes behind their helmets.

"Your journey ends here I'm afraid," said Malvarys. "You were a valuable asset to me, Lorthis. But I can't have you snitching to the guards on me about our little slave operation can I? I assure you this is nothing personal, merely business."

Malvarys looked down at us with a cold, deathly stare. "Kill them," he ordered the Morag Tong assassins surrounding us.

Our group all drew our weapons as the Tong swiftly moved towards us. I knew that we were going to have to stick together if we were to have any hope of winning this battle.

Two of the assassins charged at me. I charged my flame spell in my left hand and unleashed a quick burst, enclosing them in the searing fire. I cut one of them down before the other one was able to extinguish his flames and retaliate with his sword. I saw Lorthis make his way past the swarm of assassins and up the ledge where he challenged Malvarys. The Dunmer drew two swords from his belt, and I could see the two ex-partners in crime now fighting each other.

I leapt back as another assassin swung her axe at me, missing me by mere inches. Our weapons clashed in the air as she swung at me ferociously. With a quick turn of my wrist, I was able to knock her axe from her hand. Before she could react I spun around and slit her throat with my blade. She fell dead as her blood gushed onto the floor.

"Kill these pests!" Malvarys shouted from above as he continued to duel Lorthis. "None of them will leave here alive!"

I looked over to see Mailena facing off against three assassins at once, and I could tell they were overwhelming her. I picked up a dagger off the ground and threw it right into one of the assassin's backs. He fell with a cry of pain as I sprinted over to help Mailena. Another assassin turned towards me and went to strike, but I was too quick and my blade found its way to his heart before he could even react.

I heard a loud battle cry from Torgron behind me. The mighty Nord kicked two of the assassins to the ground at once before decapitating one of them with his axe. Over half the Tong agents were already dead. I started to have hope. Perhaps we would come through this alive after all. Mailena finished off the third assassin that was attacking her.

"Thanks Sargoth," she said gratefully. We faced several more of the assassins together, cutting down every one that came close to us.

We ran over to help the others against the remaining assassins. I drew my bow and sent an arrow straight into the neck of an assassin that was attacking Valryn. Torgron had brutally finished off two more assassins, and we all ganged up on the last three that remained. They stood no chance against our fury, and they fell quickly before us.

We all turned around to face Lorthis and Malvarys who were still fighting on the ledge above us. Malvarys was fast, easily dodging Lorthis's attacks. The Nord unleashed a ferocious swing of his blade which caused Malvarys to stagger. The Dark Elf jumped backwards and was able to regain his stance. He swung at Lorthis with a swift precision, but he was able to deflect the blow. Lorthis twirled his blade in his hand and with a swift motion of his wrist; he was able to make a cut across Malvarys's leg, causing the Elf to fall to the ground. Lorthis kicked his swords away from him out of his reach, and then held his own sword against Malvarys's neck.

"It's over, Malvarys," said Lorthis. "You're not going to profit from the suffering of others anymore. It's time for you to pay for your crimes."

"You're just as guilty as I am Lorthis," Malvarys began. "You and I both profited from the exploitation of thousands of captured slaves. If I'm going to die for my crimes, then you're coming with me!"

And then in a moment that happened so fast, that happened before any of us could even register what was going on, Malvarys brandished a dagger from his belt. In a last, desperate move, the Dunmer sprung to his feet. Before Lorthis could raise his sword to defend himself, Malvarys brought back his arm, and plunged the dagger through Lorthis's heart. We watched in horror as Lorthis gasped in pain as the dagger pierced him, blood seeping through his clothes as he fell to the ground.

"Lorthis!" shouted Torgron as he watched his fellow Nord fall. Torgron dashed up the stairs with blinding speed, with unmatched fury. The Nord raised his axe in the air. Malvarys desperately tried to defend himself, but he was no match for Torgron's might. The Dark Elf was decapitated in seconds, his head rolling down the stairs.

We all rushed to Lorthis who was bleeding heavily. Torgron was kneeling beside him, trying his best to save him.

"L-leave it," said Lorthis, his breaths becoming strained and frantic.

"Hang in there Lorthis," said Torgron. "We're going to get you out of here. You're going to be all right."

"No…leave me. My time has come," Lorthis said. "I have paid for my crimes. Paid for the lives I've ruined, the people I've hurt. I…I want to thank you for rescuing me and giving me the chance to make things right. I can…..I can only hope that Shor will welcome me into the halls of Sovngarde."

None of us said a word that moment. The air fell still with a chilling silence. Then, Lorthis took his last breath before closing his eyes forever, as his life ebbed away from him. Torgron leaned over and kissed his forehead in respect and uttered a prayer for the fallen Nord.

_Talos guide your soul, brother. May you spend the rest of eternity feasting with your ancestors in Sovngarde._

Torgron rose to his feet and looked at all of us with sadness in his eye.

"Well, I guess our mission's over," he said. "This wasn't how I expected it to end."

"What are we gonna tell Galthar?" Lorian asked.

"Oh fuck! I never even thought of him," said Torgron. "Galthar is going to be furious."

I looked around the room at all the corpses of the Morag Tong agents we had slain. The floor was drenched in pools of crimson blood, death and misery swirled through the air.

"Well, I guess we won't be getting a proper payment," I said. "We might as well help ourselves to anything valuable that might be here."

Our group started scavenging the fort any sort of treasure. I found some potions and a few gems that would be worth quite a bit of money. After we all took some treasure for ourselves, we made our way back out of Fort Salthir.

* * *

"Unacceptable!" Galthar shouted in rage. "Absolutely unacceptable!" The High Elf drove a dagger deep into the wooden table he was standing over.

"It wasn't our fault Galthar!" Torgron desperately tried to calm the Altmer. "The whole thing was a setup from the beginning! The client never meant for us to leave that prison!"

"I give you one mission Torgron, _one_ mission! And you come back to me with excuses?!"

Our group was standing in Galthar's quarters, shamefully reporting our failure to him. I wanted to say something in Torgron's defence, but I didn't want to further enrage our leader.

"We were attacked by the Morag Tong, Galthar," Torgron explained. "We barely made it out of Morrowind alive."

"The Morag Tong?!" Galthar asked in shock. "And the prisoner? What of him?"

"Dead."

Galthar let out a sigh of frustration.

"So this whole mission was in vain then?" the Altmer asked. "I send you to Morrowind, and you come back with nothing?!"

"No Galthar, we came back with something," Torgron said, and he then motioned for Mailena who was standing behind us to step forward.

"This is Mailena Raven-Wing," Torgron introduced her to Galthar. "She used to work with the Tong, but she turned against them and helped us fight them off."

Galthar examined Mailena closely for a moment. She shook slightly as the Altmer looked her over.

"You used to be with the Tong?" he asked her.

"Y-yes sir," Mailena answered. "I've been trained in the arts of stealth and assassination. Torgron here says I would be useful to your group."

"I'm impressed, for one so young to be accepted into the Morag Tong," Galthar said, sounding pleased. "And if Torgron vouches for you, then you _must_ be capable. Perhaps you will be useful to us."

"So, she's in?" Torgron asked.

"Maybe," Galthar answered. "I need your word that your former allegiance to the Morag Tong is severed forever. If you join us, your loyalty is to us and to us alone. You do what we say, _when_ we say. Is any part of what I said unclear?"

"No, sir. You have my word. I'm done with the Tong forever," Mailena said.

Galthar smiled briefly.

"Then in that case, it is my honor to welcome you into the Crimson Serpents."


	21. Altar of the Black Sun (Part I)

_13__th__ of Morning Star, 4E 30_

_It's almost two weeks into the New Year already. The cold is fierce and relentless, enough to freeze the scales right off a dragon. The province of Skyrim is experiencing some pretty major blizzards and storms right now, and of course with us being so close we're feeling much of its wrath as well. Nobody has really gone outside for the last few weeks, even for contracts_

_Despite the harsh weather though, things are going quite well here with the Crimson Serpents. I still find it hard to believe I've already been with them for over three years. It feels like it was only yesterday I was just a naïve, teenaged thief on the streets of Skingrad, stealing whatever I could get my hands on just to make ends meet. I find myself wondering where my life would have gone had I never ran into Galthar and been accepted into the Serpents. Would I still have been a thief? Would I even still have been in Skingrad? Would I have gotten an honest job perhaps? Maybe as a farmer? Or a merchant, or even a blacksmith's apprentice? Who knows, it's hard to say really. There are so many directions my life could have taken and it is quite difficult to sit here and think through everything that could have happened. I guess the only thing that's important is the here and now, and of course I am quite happy with where my life is right now._

_In the three years I've been with the Crimson Serpents, I've completed more contracts than I can count, and I have gained a lot of trust with the group. I may not have been here as long as some of the other members, but I've certainly completed many difficult jobs, and they value me and respect me just as much as anyone else. I know I say it a lot, but there are truly no words that can describe how glad I am to have found a group of people who accept me so openly. A person's race doesn't matter in the Crimson Serpents, nor does their background, social status or wealth. We are all brothers and sisters here who are treated as equals. We support each other, watch each other's backs, and lend a hand to anyone who's going through a rough time._

_I've been entrusted with training Mailena, whom we brought from Morrowind during my first year with the Serpents. To be perfectly honest I was quite shocked when Galthar asked me to oversee her training, and the task was very overwhelming for me at first, especially seeing as I hadn't even been with the Serpents for a year when we brought her here. But after a while, I have become more and more used to the role of being her teacher, and Mailena has learned our ways quite well. Being a former agent of the infamous Morag Tong, she obviously exhibits great skill and she has proven herself to be a valuable member to our gang. She is still very young however and there is room for significant improvement for her. Having done several jobs with her, I noticed that she gets quite hasty and impatient with thievery jobs that require stealth and discretion. Several times she has made far more noise on the job than was necessary, and as a result we've found ourselves almost caught more times than I care to admit. Her skills in swordplay need work as well, as she very often neglects to think before she strikes her opponent, which obviously makes her prone to being caught by surprise if her opponent possesses even the slightest intellect. Her archery skills on the other hand are like nothing I've ever seen before. I swear that woman was born with a bow in her hands. Mailena can hit just about any target from any distance with almost effortless ease, and quite frankly her skill impresses me. She easily matches Anora with the bow and arrow, though of course I dare not say that out loud. Anora would kill me if she ever heard me say such a thing._

_As I expected, the two of them became fast friends upon meeting one another. They took to each other right away, forming an almost instant connection. I know Anora is happy to have someone else who shares her passion for archery, and I'm glad that she and Mailena hit it off so easily._

_Shadow has entrusted Mailena and I with a job which I expect we will be leaving for later this afternoon. There's a large mansion several miles east of here that our client wants us to break into and rob. Apparently the owner has wronged our client in the past, and now he wants us to send a message. Shadow has given me a note written by the client himself which I have been instructed to leave somewhere where the target will easily find it. I'm not anticipating too much trouble, although in our line of work, things tend not to go as planned. Jari will be coming along with us though, and that Khajiit is one of the best thieves we've got, so hopefully things go relatively smoothly. I guess today I'll find out whether or not Mailena has paid any attention to her training in stealth. For all three of our sakes, I certainly hope so._

* * *

I lowered myself to a crouch as I reached for a lockpick from my breast pocket. The wind was deathly cold that night. Morning Star was always the coldest month of the year, and I could feel the patches of frost and ice in my beard. I slid the pick and my wrench into the lock, and I immediately realized this was one of the best locks money could buy. The metal was very high quality, and combined with my shaking hands from the merciless winter winds, picking this lock was going to prove a challenge.

"Is there a problem, my friend?" asked Jari who was crouched behind me. As always, the Khajiit had a pipe of moon sugar in his mouth. Clouds of smoke exited his mouth as he spoke, and that certainly wasn't helping my concentration with the present task.

"This is a quite well-made lock," I said in frustration at already having broken two lockpicks.

Jari came up beside me and examined the lock closely.

"Made by a master locksmith, of this Khajiit is sure," said Jari.

"I don't know if I can open this Jari," I said, feeling unsure of myself.

"Just focus, Sargoth," said the Khajiit. "Picking a master lock is no different than any other lock. Just turn your wrench very slowly. Focus on finding the sweet spot. Jari believes in you."

"And so do I," said Mailena who was crouched behind both of us.

I was appreciative of the support and encouragement from both my comrades, and I could feel my confidence returning to me. I quickly grabbed another pick from my pocket and got back to work. I spent about another minute trying to pick the door open as my heart raced in fear of being discovered. There were four guards patrolling the perimeter of the mansion which the three of us eliminated silently and easily. We had no idea how many more of them there would be though, and one thing I have discovered through all my years of being a thief, is that guards have a habit of taking you by surprise at the absolute worst of times.

Finally after much perseverance and a couple more broken picks, I successfully picked the lock and slowly slid the double doors to the mansion open. The three of us, still in a crouched position stealthily stepped inside, shutting the doors behind us.

We found ourselves in the middle of a grand foyer. Two large staircases stood on both sides of the room that led to the higher levels of the mansion. I saw several marble statues sitting on tall pedestals in the wide corridors of the luxurious house. Golden candles sat comfortably upon the walls, their dim embers providing our only source of light. I currently did not see any guards in the vicinity, but I made sure to stay alert at all times.

"All right," I said to Jari and Mailena with a faint whisper. "You know the mission. Steal as much loot as you can, and of course we can't forget to leave this note where the target will see it."

"Maybe we should split up?" Mailena suggested. "We would be able to cover more ground and finish the task sooner."

"Jari agrees with this one," said the Khajiit.

"Good idea," I also agreed. "We meet back here in twenty minutes. If you come across any guards, take them out without raising the alarm. I have the note with me here, so I'll handle that."

The three of us nodded our heads in unison.

"Oh, and Jari. Might I suggest putting away your pipe? A cloud of smoke looming above your head will be quite easy for guards to spot," I said.

Jari chuckled softly before heeding my suggestion. He wiped away the cloud of smoke with his hand before sliding his pipe into his pocket.

"I'll go upstairs," I said. "Jari, you take the east side of the house. Mailena, you take the west side. Remember, kill anyone you must, except the target of course." And with that, we went our separate ways through the mansion.

I crept my way up the carpeted staircase, making sure to tread with absolute silence. Upon reaching the second floor of the house I saw two corridors on both sides of me. Both hallways were lined with doors, and there was also another staircase leading to even higher levels of the mansion. This place was so big and I didn't really have any idea on where to start so I just went to the door that was closest to me. I discovered the door was locked upon turning the knob, and I silently slid a pick from my pocket. Fortunately, this lock was not nearly as well-crafted as the one outside, and I unlocked the door with relative ease.

I spotted a few pieces of jewelry and other valuables locked away in display cases and strongboxes. I stuffed everything I deemed worth stealing into my pockets and pouches I had attached to my belt. I broke into several more rooms in the house. The mansion was absolutely littered with gems, necklaces, diamond rings and other rare valuables. I knew we had struck gold with this house, and soon enough I found my pockets becoming quite full of loot.

After exiting the room and shutting the door behind me, I slowly went up the stairs and came to the third floor where I was certain there would be more goods. I came upon a set of double doors which fortunately were unlocked. I peered through the keyhole to see if anyone was inside, and upon seeing the coast was clear I pushed open the doors and slipped inside.

I saw many large, extravagant paintings hung on the walls of this room. A stone fireplace sat to the left side with a couple chairs and a bear rug in front of it. A wide desk sat at the back of the room where several books and stacks of paper were lying about unorganized in a cluttered mess. Behind the desk were bookcases with most of the spots being full. I deduced that this room must have been a study, and that our target more than likely spent a lot of time in this room. And that meant that this would be a perfect place to leave the note. I walked over to the desk and slid the small sheet of paper out from my breast pocket. I laid the note in the center of the desk and then, drawing a spare dagger from my belt, I drove the blade straight through the note, pinning it to the desk. That would surely be noticed by our target, and without a doubt he would then read it and see whatever message our client wanted to leave him.

I made my way back to the doors to leave the room, and that was when I heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching swiftly. The sound was a heavy clanking of metal boots, so I knew right away it was one of the guards of the manor. Desperately I scanned the study for somewhere, anywhere to hide.

I spotted a closet off to the side of the room and quickly made my way over to it. Upon opening it I saw there was more than enough room for me to fit inside. I could hear the guard's footsteps drawing closer. I slid open the closet and hastily positioned myself inside. I shut the doors to the closet just mere seconds before the guard entered the room, and I forced myself into complete silence.

The guard paced around the elegantly furnished study as if he was looking for something, or someone. I was breathing nervously as I sat scrunched in that closet. I was struggling to keep my breaths silent and to keep any movements to an absolute minimum. So far the guard seemed to be completely unaware to my presence. The guard looked around for a few minutes longer, whistling to himself as he continued to find nothing.

_Don't see the note,_ I thought to myself. _By Azura, please don't see the fucking note._

The guard was hanging around the room a bit too long for my liking, and I was hoping he would leave any moment. To my disdain, he sat in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace instead. He stretched his arms and yawned as he relaxed himself.

"Gods, I really need to lay off the mead," the guard muttered to himself. "I keep thinking I'm hearing noises. This place is damn scary at night."

I was trapped in that closet, forcing myself not to move at all lest the guard hear me. I had no idea how I was going to get out of this. There was no way I would be able to sneak past him. I could have tried killing him, but the chance of someone else hearing and raising the alarm was too great. No, I was going to have to do this without force.

Another minute passed, the guard was still mumbling incoherently to himself. I was quickly losing my patience, and I was starting to heavily lean towards just taking my chances and killing him. Just then however, I noticed a small knob sticking from the back panel of the closet. Upon giving it a gentle tug to the side, the panel slid open and led to a hidden room. Ecstatic at my sudden good fortune, I shut the panel behind me and began scanning the secret room. Almost immediately I could see priceless valuables just sitting around, almost waiting to be stolen.

After stealing everything I could fit in my pockets, I made my way down a dark staircase and came to what looked to be a dead-end at the bottom. Nothing but a stone wall was in front of me, and I silently cursed to myself. As I was about to head back upstairs to seek another way out, I spotted a lever sitting off to the side. I gave the lever a swift pull, and the wall in front of me began to slide open. I exited through the hidden passage and after crossing through a corridor, I found myself back in the main lobby of the mansion where we had started.

I didn't see Jari and Mailena right away, and I knew we were supposed to be meeting back here right about now. I looked around for a moment hoping that nothing happened to them, and that was when I heard footsteps approaching. I placed my hand upon the hilt of my dagger, but to my relief it was my companions. I could see that both of them had stolen a great amount of loot, and we would definitely be getting a hefty payout tonight.

"There you guys are," I whispered as they approached. "I was beginning to worry something happened to you."

"We were worried about _you_," Mailena said back. "We got here a while ago but you weren't here. We decided to look for you in case something happened."

"Well, I did have a close call with a guard, but I'm fine. Come on; let's get the hell outta here."

* * *

"Good work, all three of you," said Stalks-The-Shadows as we reported our success to him and showed him all the loot we had stolen. "And you left the note as well?"

"We did," I answered the Argonian. "You may rest assured that our target will find it."

"Well done," said Shadow. "Galthar will be most pleased with this news. And speaking of Galthar, he asked to see you Sargoth. Probably has an important contract for you."

"I'll make sure to see him at once."

Galthar was sitting at his desk sharpening a knife when I walked into his office.

"Sargoth, come in and sit down," the Altmer said as he saw me. I sat down in a chair in front of his desk and he set his knife down.

"Shadow tells me your mission went well," Galthar said to me.

"It did," I replied. "That loot should fetch a few thousand septims at least."

"You continue to impress us all, Sargoth," Galthar complimented. "Many members of this group have come and gone since I started it, and your skills and talent rival the best of them. You've made quite a name for yourself the few years you've been here, and with every job you prove yourself to be a more valuable asset to us."

"Thank you," was all I said. "So what did you want to see me about?"

"Someone in Chorrol has need of our services," Galthar began. "Actually, it's the Captain of the Guard who has asked for us."

"What does he need?"

"Apparently several of the local citizens have gone missing over the last month or two. People both within the city and the area surrounding it have been mysteriously disappearing, none of them being seen again since. The guards have investigated these strange disappearances, and so far have turned up nothing. So now they've enlisted our help, and they are paying us a good amount of coin for it."

"So we have no idea who is behind the disappearances or where everyone is being taken to?" I asked.

"That is quite correct," answered Galthar. "That is what we are being tasked to find out."

"Is anyone else going on this job?"

"Yes, Shadow and Soren will be accompanying you," the High Elf replied. "And now that I think about it, I think I'll tag along as well."

"_You're_ coming with us?" I asked.

"Yes. I grow tired of doing nothing but paperwork and managing contracts day after day. It has been far too long since I've gone on a job myself, and I would very much like to see some action."

"When do we leave for Chorrol?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. The journey will be long, so I recommend getting plenty of sleep tonight. You are certainly going to need it, friend."

I made my way to my room and lazily tossed all my equipment into the corner. Anora was lying on my bed reading a book.

"Sargoth! You're back!" she said excitedly as she saw me. I lay down on the bed next to her and kissed her as we shared a passionate embrace.

"How did your job go?" she asked.

"We stole a lot of loot tonight," I answered. "It's definitely worth at least a few thousand septims."

I rolled over on top of Anora and straddled her hips as we looked into each other's eyes. She cupped my face with her hand as our lips locked together and I ran my hand through her thick auburn hair.

"I'm going to Chorrol tomorrow afternoon," I said.

"What's the job?" Anora asked.

"I'm not actually sure. Galthar only said that people have gone missing and haven't been heard from. We've been asked to help the guards in finding out what's going on."

She stroked my beard gently with her fingers as we kissed again. I placed my hand on her hip, running it along her curvaceous figure.

"Well, be careful, as always," said Anora as she wrapped her arms around me.

"I will."

* * *

The journey to Chorrol was indeed long, taking our group almost the entire day. We arrived at the gates just a few minutes before midnight. Upon first walking into the city, my eyes were greeted by a tall, lush oak tree standing in the middle of what looked to be a plaza, surrounded by several luxurious manors made entirely of rich stone. Chorrol was one of the more wealthy and refined cities of Cyrodiil. It was also the primary headquarters of the Fighters Guild, and many warriors in heavy, hulking armor could always be seen strutting about the streets. A few guards patrolled the streets with torches in hand, providing a dim light through the darkened streets of the city. The twin moons were both waning that night, and the sky was utterly black, shrouding the land in endless darkness.

Galthar, Shadow, Soren and I made our way to Castle Chorrol. A lone guard was standing outside the main doors, and we walked over towards him.

"Greetings travelers," the guard said kindly. "What brings you to Chorrol at such a late hour?"

"The Captain has requested our assistance with the disappearances that have been recently occurring," answered Galthar.

"Ah yes, we've been expecting you," said the guard. "The Captain is just inside the main hall here. Please, if you will follow me."

The guard led us inside the large castle and into the hall. The interior of the castle was dark, the only source of light being the dimly lit torch sconces sitting upon the walls. We came into the throne room where the Captain was seated waiting for us.

"Sir, the travelers you've been expecting have arrived," announced the guard to his Captain.

"Very good soldier," said the Captain. "Leave us."

"Yes sir," the guard complied.

"So, you guys are the Crimson Serpents eh? I was hoping there would be more of you," said the Captain as he examined us.

"Trust me, we are well-trained and can handle any job," Galthar responded confidently, and with his usual smug attitude. "Our strength and determination more than makes up for our low numbers."

"We'll see about that, won't we?" the guard asked skeptically.

"So here's the situation," the Captain began. "Three more people have gone missing since yesterday. No traces of them have been left, no clues to their whereabouts, and we still have no clue who is behind the disappearances. My guards and I are at our wits end trying to figure out this mystery."

"So you assume these to be abductions?" asked Soren, who hadn't spoken once yet on our entire journey.

"There's nothing else it could be," said the Captain. "There's no way this many people can just go missing over such a short period of time. And the fact that none of them have been seen again only reinforces my suspicions."

"You think they've been killed?" asked Shadow.

"By the Gods I hope not, but it's a possibility I can't ignore," said the Captain.

"So you know nothing more of these abductions?" asked Galthar.

"Afraid not," replied the Captain. "I know I'm not giving you much to work with, but we really need your help. You will be paid for any information you discover."

"Don't worry, we will find out whatever, or whoever is responsible for these disappearances," said Galthar reassuringly.

Our group stepped back out into the darkness of the streets of Chorrol. We were all feeling a little uncertain and maybe even a little afraid that moment. We literally had no idea where we were even going to start this mission. We had next to no information to work with, and we figured the guards probably weren't going to be of much help.

"Well Galthar," began Shadow as we continued to traverse the streets. "Any ideas on where we should start?"

We all hoped that our leader would be able to provide some guidance and lay to rest our unease.

"I'm just as befuddled as the rest of you," answered the Altmer much to our disdain. "I do recommend splitting up however. We can cover more ground that way."

"And what exactly are we supposed to do?" I asked the Elf.

Galthar paused and thought for a moment. "I would recommend talking to anyone who might still be out on the streets. Ask if they've seen anything. And of course always make sure to keep an eye out for suspicious activity. The guards say these abductions are happening often, so perhaps we'll be fortunate enough to catch one as its happening."

"Galthar and I will search the south side of the town," said Shadow. "Sargoth and Soren, you take the north side. If you see anything at all, be sure to find us right away."

"Of course," said Soren.

I watched as the High Elf and the Argonian walked away towards the southern end of town. Soren and I shared a glance of uncertainty, and then we began to make our way to the north part of the city.

The streets of Chorrol were almost entirely deserted, considering how late in the night it was. No one but guards on patrol could be seen, and we would occasionally come across the odd citizen here and there, and we would ask them if they saw anything related to the disappearances. They were never of help though; none of them saw anything at all that could even remotely help us. Still, Chorrol was a beautiful city, and I found myself quite enjoying the elegant stonework and architecture.

Beside me I saw Soren cast a spell which I immediately knew to be a candlelight spell. The shrouds of darkness dispersed from our path from the illuminating spell.

"This silence makes me uneasy," said the Breton as our footsteps echoed through the near empty streets.

"I agree," I replied.

"I feel like something bad is just waiting to happen. The calm before the storm you might say," Soren said.

"I wish we at least had a lead to go by. I'm not exactly big on just wandering around somewhere with no information," I said.

"But that just makes the contract that much more fun!" replied Soren. "Scholars like me thrive on finding out information for ourselves. It provides a nice challenge, and of course I always relish the opportunity to refine my extraordinary talents and intellect."

"Whatever you say Soren," I shot back.

All of a sudden a short distance away from us, we heard an ear-piercing shriek. It was a woman's voice, and I could hear her struggling and crying desperately for help.

"This way!" shouted Soren as he took off running towards the scream. I kept pace behind the Breton as we dashed hurriedly to see what the trouble was.

We made our way towards the south gate of the city and the screams grew louder and more frantic. Several guards were also running towards the scream. As Soren and I came to the gate I could see a young woman being carried off by a hooded figure in a black robe. The woman was slung over his shoulder, desperately struggling to escape his grasp but to no avail.

"Help!" the woman shrieked. "Oh gods! Somebody please help me!"

I saw the guards draw their bows and fire upon the mysterious abductor. Their shots all missed, and I could see the hooded man getting closer to the gate.

"We need to stop him! Hurry!" Soren yelled as he charged towards the gate. I followed him as I drew my bow and nocked an arrow into place.

I took a second to steady my shot, and then I released the arrow. It soared through the air and pierced the abductor right in his shoulder, causing him to drop the woman. Soren raised his hand and I saw a sharp torrent of lightning shoot from it. The hooded man yelped in pain as he became paralyzed by Soren's spell. He dropped to the ground, struggling to move. From the other side I could see Galthar and Shadow running towards the scene. We walked over to the woman who was still shaken from almost being kidnapped and helped her stand.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think so," she responded as she steadied herself. "Thanks you so much. He very well may have gotten away with me had it not have been for you."

"Do you know who he is?" asked Shadow. "Have you ever seen him before?"

"No, I've never seen him before in my life!" said the woman. "I was just on my way home from the chapel when out of nowhere he just grabbed me and tried to make off with me!"

Our group all stood silent for a moment. The guards walked over to the hooded abductor who was still lying on the ground and hoisted him up to his feet.

"You're under arrest for the attempted kidnapping of this woman," said a guard as he slapped a pair of chains on the abductor's wrists. "You're going to rot in the Chorrol dungeons, scum. I'll see to that."

The guards began to march away with their prisoner before Galthar beckoned them to stop.

"Wait a second!" the High Elf yelled. "If this is the one who is responsible for the recent kidnappings, then we should question him first. He might have some answers that would prove invaluable to this mission."

The guards said nothing, and the prisoner chuckled with a menacing sneer on his face.

"I'll tell you nothing!" he said.

"You will if you want to avoid spending the rest of your life behind bars," replied one of the guards.

"You think I'm scared of a dungeon?" the prisoner shot back.

The guard then grabbed the prisoner by the collar of his robes.

"You better start talking right now you piece of trash! Or I'll run you through with my sword right here on the streets!"

The prisoner was silent yet again, he only continued to laugh.

"I can make him talk," said Galthar. "I have plenty of experience with "persuading" people to cooperate."

"He's all yours," replied the guard.

Galthar looked over at Soren and gave him a subtle nod. The Breton raised his hand and charged a wave of lightning before sending a sharp jolt through the abductor's body. The man let out a painful yell and he fell to the ground clutching his chest.

"Who are you working for?" asked Galthar. "Why have you been kidnapping Chorrol's citizens? Where are you taking them?!"

The abductor still refused to talk, and Soren unleashed a stronger and longer jolt of lightning at him.

"If you wish for the pain to cease, all you need to do is answer my questions," Galthar said sternly.

The abductor just looked up and spat on Galthar's boot. "Burn in Oblivion!"

Galthar drew a dagger and stormed angrily towards the prisoner. With a swift flick of his wrist, Galthar severed the prisoner's left ring finger, and he screamed in agony as the digit fell to the ground.

"I grow _quite_ tired of this tedious exercise," Galthar said, cleaning the blood off his knife. "Tell me what I want to know, or I'll cut off the rest of them."

"Fine! Just stop! Please!" the prisoner finally relented.

"I'm a member of a cult called the Black Sun. Our lair is in an old chapel by a big graveyard a few miles east from here. That's where we've been taking the people we've abducted."

"There's a whole cult of you people behind these abductions?" asked Shadow, who sounded a little shocked.

"Yes," the prisoner said with a sneer. "And I can tell you that if you try and come after us, we will kill you in the most painful ways imaginable."

"That's enough!" ordered Galthar. "That's all we need to know. We're done with you."

The guards grabbed the prisoner by the arms and began to march him off again.

"We're going to take this scumbag to the dungeon and tend to his wound," said a guard. "Go to this chapel he spoke of and see what you can find. If you find this so-called cult, kill every last one of them before they have a chance to abduct even more people."

* * *

The journey to the graveyard took less than an hour. We tied our horses to a tree and quickly made our way to a tall metal gate that served as the graveyard's entrance. The gate made a loud, almost deafening creaking sound as we opened it.

A thick, shrouding mist loomed above the cold ground, giving the graveyard a gloomy, haunting atmosphere. Rows upon rows of old, decrepit graves stood amidst the looming haze. Tall, dead trees completely bare of any leaves swayed with the faint breeze. The crunching sound of decayed bones met our ears as our feet touched the ground. Murders of crows sat atop the trees and desecrated monuments, their calls echoing far into the night sky.

"This place gives me the creeps," said Soren as we heard an owl in the distance.

"Perfect place for a cult to make their lair," said Shadow.

The graveyard was large and vast, and it honestly looked like it stretched for miles. Our group continued through the graveyard for a few minutes before we were met with the sight of a large stone cathedral standing in the mist.

"This must be it," Galthar said as we approached the mighty structure.

The cathedral was extremely old, judging by the stones it looked like it was built eras ago. Patches of moss could be seen growing through the cracks in the stonework. Most of the arched windows were shattered due to years of decay. I looked up and saw a steeple sitting atop the cathedral. A good number of its stones had crumbled and fallen to the ground, and I could see what was left of it struggling to keep from falling over entirely.

"I wonder who this cathedral was built for," I said. "One of the Divines?"

"No, I highly doubt this chapel was built for an Aedra," said Galthar. "This masonry could only be the work of Daedra worshippers. I can tell just from the architecture and stonework that this place was used to serve one of the Daedric Princes. Which one it was specifically for, I cannot say."

The inside of the cathedral was just as eerie as the outside. The building was almost completely shrouded in darkness, save for a few torches that were strangely enough still lit. I looked up to see a dome-shaped ceiling that looked almost as high as the sky itself. Ahead of us in the dark hallway was a wide alcove containing what looked to be several desecrated and crumbled shrines. As we drew closer I could see dried stains of blood on the stone floor as well as piles of mangled skeletons and body parts. The rotten stench of death and decay filled my nostrils, and I could see the look of unease on the faces of my fellow companions.

"I would guess this area was used for human sacrifices to whomever the inhabitants worshipped," said Soren.

"What I don't understand is why this place is so abandoned," Shadow said. "The man we interrogated said that this "Black Sun" cult made their home here. But it looks to me like we're the first to set foot in here in centuries."

"Quite strange indeed," said Galthar in agreement.

My curiosity took hold of me and I wandered off from the rest of the group to explore this place. As morbid and frightening as this chapel was, I was still fascinated by the ancient architecture of it. I came upon many more shrines and statues as I aimlessly wandered the dark, deserted corridors. My footsteps seemed to echo throughout the whole building with every step I took, like the whole world could hear me. I went down a set of stairs and came into what looked to be an undercroft.

I grabbed a torch and I immediately saw that all the walls had small spaces dug into them which were used to bury the coffins of those buried here. As I explored further and further down through the haunting crypts, I began to notice that several of the coffins had been dug out from the walls and forcibly opened. Upon looking closer into the open caskets, I saw that many of them were completely empty, save for a few piles of scattered bones and skulls. The strangest part was it looked like whoever had dug these graves open had done it quite recently. I had no idea why someone could possibly want to disturb the deceased like this, but I felt a knot tighter than a noose forming in my stomach, and I was beginning to dread what we might be dealing with.

I noticed a long chain sitting on the wall. I gazed at it curiously for several moments before finally giving it a gentle tug. My ears were greeted by a strange loud sound, and looking to my left I saw a stone slab in the wall slowly opening up. I stood astonished at the hidden passage I had discovered, and I called the rest of my group down to investigate what I had found.

"Where do you think this leads?" asked Soren who was also fascinated.

"I'm not sure," I answered. "But I'm willing to wager a hundred septims that this cult we're looking for are down here, and also hopefully the citizens whom they've been kidnapping."

"I don't like these open graves," said Shadow. "I fear this may be no ordinary cult we're dealing with here. I recommend we tread with the utmost discretion down there."

"I concur," said Galthar as he took the lead into the secret passageway.

* * *

Following the Altmer's lead, we slowly made our way through the dark tunnel until we came to a descending staircase. Looking down I saw nothing but complete and utter blackness, an endless pit more horrifying than the void itself. Even the darkest of nights wasn't as eerie as this was.

"All right boys, this is it," Galthar said with caution in his voice. "Anything could be waiting for us down there, and I need you to be fully alert and ready for it."

The rest of us gave a nod to our leader, and we then slowly began our descent down the staircase, into the depths of the black abyss before us.


	22. Altar of the Black Sun (Part II)

**A/N: I haven't left an author's note in a while, so I'd just like to say thanks to all my readers. This chapter was going to be longer, but I decided I've spent long enough writing it and I'll put the rest in the next chapter.**

**This is definitely my most graphic chapter yet, and there is quite a bit of gruesome imagery. But if you've already read to this point, I'm guessing that stuff probably doesn't bother you.**

**Thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

I have no idea how long we spent descending the stairway beneath the cathedral, into the depths of the black chasm before us. A grey swirling mist slowly rose from the pits, almost engulfing us completely and shrouding our vision, making it near impossible to see ahead of us. The journey could not have possibly taken more than five minutes at the most, but to me it felt as long as an entire eternity. Every step we took further down into the bowels of the endless abyss increased the feeling of dread and uncertainty inside me, like a ravenous black hole mercilessly gnawing away at my sanity with an endless, insatiable hunger. None of my companions said a word to each other, none of us uttered a single sound. Only the sound of the faint echoes of our footsteps reverberating through the darkness could be heard as we proceeded downward.

After what felt like an age, we came to the bottom of the staircase and were met with the sight of a pair of iron doors in between two lit torches. The doors were built right into the solid stone cliffside which surrounded the entire circumference of the pit. We listened for any noises that could possibly indicate a hostile presence, and upon hearing nothing we walked over to the doors.

"Locked," said Galthar with a grunt of frustration. "Looks like a tough one too."

"Doesn't surprise me," replied Stalks-The-Shadows. "A cult this far underground would certainly take extensive precautions to keep outsiders like us out. I don't think they'll exactly be giving us a warm welcome, should we be spotted."

"Well until we get this door open, we aren't going anywhere," said Galthar.

I reached my hand into my breast pocket to get a lockpick, but suddenly I saw a light flash in Soren's right hand. The Breton stepped towards the iron door, and being the skilled mage that he was, was able to cast an Alteration spell upon the lock that easily forced it open. Galthar then pushed open the door and we proceeded to follow the Altmer through to the next room.

Unsurprisingly, we found ourselves in yet another set of catacombs. I could see countless piles of even more desecrated coffins which had been dug out from the walls and forcefully pried open. The vast, dark tunnels of the underground tomb looked like there was no end to them. I had never been surrounded by so much death before in my life, and seeing all these burials being so blatantly disturbed only served to feed the anxiety swelling within me.

"What in Oblivion could possess anyone to desecrate burials at such a large magnitude?" Shadow asked with much disgust in his voice.

"It's hard to say exactly why someone would do this," Soren replied to the Argonian. "But I do know that abandoned catacombs are a necromancer's dream come true. More than likely, this cult has been digging up these bodies and using them for necromantic rituals."

"If Soren is right, then we must take extra caution," Galthar warned. "Necromancers are powerful and extremely unpredictable. Some of them can resurrect any deceased being, and there are even a select few who can summon demons from Oblivion itself. Brace yourselves; we could possibly have a deadly fight on our hands."

Our group continued to trek slowly and cautiously through the mist-shrouded tombs. A faint wind blew through the darkened tunnels, its voice as soft as a whisper, but frigid enough to make the hair on my arms stand upright. The deathly silence of these underground tombs was becoming too much to bear, the anticipation of danger lurking within the shadows was enough to drive most men insane. We came to a steep set of stairs which led even further down, and after Soren lit a candlelight spell we all began to make our way down.

I came to the last step, and my heart stopped when I heard the sudden noise of a pressure plate I had unknowingly stepped on. There was a loud clang as my foot pushed the plate into the ground, and before my mind could even register what had happened, a barrage of darts began spewing from the walls in all directions.

"Everyone down!" I shouted as I dropped to the stone ground and covered my head with both my arms. The walls continued to spit forth the darts; I could hear the dull thud sound they made as they fell to the floor.

The relentless volley of darts bombarded us for a moment longer before we were met with silence once again. I slowly rose back up to my feet, as did my companions who fortunately were unhurt.

"Everyone all right?" I asked, feeling quite stupid and foolish for having sprung such an obvious trap.

"Yes, we're all fine," answered Shadow as he brushed some dirt off his armor.

"Sorry about that," I said apologetically. "I don't know how I could have missed that."

"We tell you to watch your step for a reason, Sargoth," Galthar said to me with an understandably irritated tone of voice. "We were most fortunate that no one was killed this time. But make a foolish mistake like that again, and it could very well mean the death of us all. Mark my words when I say _tread carefully_."

"Yes Galthar, it won't happen again."

"Good. Now let's quit wasting time and find out exactly what it is we're dealing with here," said Galthar as he took the lead in front of us once again.

We stepped into the next room, and the repugnant stench that immediately greeted my nostrils was enough to make even a giant keel over. The whole group began coughing uncontrollably as the scent of death itself swirled around us.

"By the Nine, did something _die_ in here?!" asked Shadow.

"Uh, I think that's _exactly_ what happened here," Galthar shot back. "In fact I am willing to wager that _many_ things have died in here. There cannot possibly be another cause for such an offensive stench."

Upon taking barely five steps into the room, I immediately saw that the High Elf was right. Piles and piles of corpses, far too many to count, were littered all throughout the wide, circular room in which we stood. I broke off from the rest of the group once again to investigate this grim discovery further.

I saw numerous torture devices standing along the walls, drenched in pools of dark red blood. Many of the devices still had the dead bodies of their unfortunate victims strapped to them. Rows of cages could be seen along the other side of the room, most of which were hanging over small fire pits. I took a closer look into the cages and saw almost all of them had a mutilated, charred corpse inside them, burnt beyond recognition. I could see small amounts of bone and flesh burning amongst the steaming hot coals of the fires, and I knew that these poor people had been burned alive. I felt my stomach churn heavily inside me, threatening to send back up the contents of my breakfast that morning.

"Whoever this Black Sun cult is, they sure know how to give their victims a gruesome end," I said as I continued to stare in disbelief at what I was seeing.

"Do you guys notice anything strange about these corpses?" Soren asked us suddenly.

"What do you mean, Soren?" Shadow asked the Breton.

Soren pointed to one of the corpse piles scattered across the floor.

"The wounds on these people look too deep to be just standard torture," said the Breton. "Look at the flesh. If I didn't know better, I'd say that these people look…eaten."

No one said a word that moment; we were too wrapped up in our own disgust and disbelief to even say anything.

"How can you be certain?" asked Galthar.

"I'm not," replied Soren. "But judging how viciously these corpses have been ripped apart and how many of them have limbs outright torn off, there's not much else it could be."

"Savagery of this degree could only be done by a werewolf, or even a sabre cat," said Shadow. "Do you really think a cult of _people_ could be capable of such atrocities?"

We made our way over to the next room, always making sure to be on the lookout for enemies. So far we had met with no resistance, but that did nothing to ease the anxiety inside me. In fact, it just made it worse if anything. Looking at the corpses of these murdered victims made it quite clear that this Black Sun cult were cruel and sadistic, and if we weren't careful we would suffer the same fate as these poor souls. With every step we took in those crypts, I was just waiting for someone to jump out at us, completely take us by surprise.

As we continued onward I saw that the walls were lined with several tall shelves. The room was almost completely dark save for two or three torches on the walls. The floor was absolutely soaked in blood, the flames of the torches reflected off of it giving the room a dim, eerie red glow. Rows of jars sat along the shelves and as I took a closer look at them, I saw that they were all filled with fresh human hearts. There was also some kind of salt inside them, which I figured must have been used to preserve the hearts and keep them from decaying. More cold, limp corpses were lying across the floor. All of them were savagely sliced open with a blade of some sort, and all of their hearts had been ripped out. I saw a few tables with bloodied rags and torture tools messily strewn atop them. Looking around, I saw more cages, and there was even another body impaled on a spike being roasted over a fire.

"I don't think any amount of drink is gonna clear my head of this," said Shadow as we investigated the macabre sight before us.

"And we still haven't find any of the missing Chorrol citizens," I added. "Well, at least any _alive_ ones."

"By the looks of this, we'll be lucky to find any of them alive," said Galthar. "But I know we can't leave here without dealing with this cult first. We need to stop them before they capture anyone else and put them through….this."

Just then, off in the distance, I thought I heard something.

"Anyone hear that?" I asked.

"What is it Sargoth?" asked Soren.

"It came from that tunnel down there. It sounded almost like somebody screaming," I replied.

"Let's check it out," said Shadow as he drew his bow. "If there's anybody alive, they may be able to give us more information on just exactly who we're dealing with."

The rest of us drew our own weapons and sprinted towards the source of the sound. We traversed through several more tunnels, dodging a few more strategically placed traps. The sound grew louder, and my guess was proven to be correct. It was indeed someone screaming, and I could tell it was from a female. The cries of pain grew more shrill and desperate as we drew closer.

We came into a wide room at the end of the tunnel, and I could see the dark shadows of two cultists hooded in black cloaks, one a man and the other a woman. They were both standing over a long, bloody table and I could see the woman who had been screaming was firmly strapped to it.

"We need to help her," whispered Soren in a panicked voice.

I nodded in agreement and just then I saw one of the hooded cultists pull out a scalpel from his robes. He moved so he was standing only inches above the helpless victim, and he brought the sharp blade upon her flesh and made a long, deep incision down the length of her abdomen.

The woman let out yet another horrified, pain-filled shriek that echoed through the catacombs. My blood was boiling inside of me, at how these people could commit such cruel and atrocious acts against innocent people. I unsheathed an arrow from my quiver, as did Shadow. The Argonian and I raised our bows into place, and on his signal, we fired. The two cultists turned around for only a brief moment, long enough for those heartless bastards to see their demise rushing straight towards them.

Before the Black Sun cultists could even react to what was happening, the arrows planted themselves firmly into their hearts. They let out a brief grunt of pain before both of them dropped to the ground like stiff boards. We quickly made our way over to the woman to help her, and I saw that we were in yet another torture chamber. Gods, these people clearly thrived in inflicting pain on others.

"You all right?" Soren asked the woman as I looked at the bodies of the dead cultists on the ground.

"Y-yeah, I…think so," she coughed up blood as she spoke in a hoarse, pained whisper. Looking at her I saw several long and deep lacerations across her body, most of which hadn't even stopped bleeding yet. She also had dark scorch marks on her arms and torso, and I could see parts of her skin had been outright burnt off and left horribly charred. Her dark brown hair sat in a tangled mess across her face, her bluish-green eyes teeming with fear.

"By the Nine, what did these people do to you?" the Breton asked in shock, and then I saw him raise his hands which began glowing a vibrant amber color. Soren gently laid his hands upon the woman and I immediately saw her wounds beginning to heal and vanish. The blood from her cuts began to dry up, and even her burns started to fade slightly, although no amount of magic would be able to completely heal those. Only time would be capable of that.

"How do you feel?" Soren asked the woman as he began to unstrap her from the table.

"Much better," she said gratefully. "Thank you so much."

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

"I can't say for sure. But I would guess at least two weeks, maybe more," responded the woman. "I arrived in Chorrol about a month ago, intending to stay there for a while. I was out exploring late one night, which I know now was quite stupid. I came across a man in a dark robe, and he asked me for directions to the nearest settlement. So I answered his question and started going about my business again, not really paying the man a second thought."

"What happened next?" asked Shadow.

"As I started to walk away, I suddenly felt him grab me and cover my mouth with his hand. I tried to resist, but unfortunately I don't remember anything past that. He knocked me unconscious with some sort of spell, and eventually I woke up to find myself here, wrapped in chains and locked in some cage. I'm sorry, I can't tell you much more than that."

"And what do you know of these cultists?" Galthar asked the woman.

"Well, I know they call themselves the Black Sun," she began. "And as you can see, their cruelty knows no bounds. They kidnap people anywhere they can find them and drag them here, and they're soon met with a fate more gruesome than you could imagine. They don't just torture their victims to death. They…_eat_ them." I could hear a strong hint of disgust in her voice.

"So we're dealing with a group of cannibals?!" said Shadow, equally as disgusted.

"Yes, and I'm afraid it gets worse," said the woman.

"These people don't just kill and eat their victims for pleasure. I overheard some of them mention that they're actually trying to resurrect something. Something powerful, something evil."

"Do you know what?" I asked.

"Yes. I heard them say it was an ancient, powerful lich that was sealed away centuries ago. I didn't hear much else about it, but these cultists simply call it "The Devourer". Judging by everything you've seen here, I don't think I need to explain why."

None of us said a word. This mission just kept getting worse and worse it seemed. It all started out as just a simple investigation into why some villagers were going missing, and now we found ourselves in a dark tomb full of sadistic cannibals who were trying to resurrect some undead lich. I was seriously starting to doubt if we were going to come through this alive. More than anything that moment, I wanted to be back home at Fort Blackmoon with a mug of ice cold ale, enjoying one of Rasha's delicious meals.

"The Black Sun say that the Devourer can only be brought back with a massive offering of human hearts and flesh," the woman explained. "That's why all the bodies here have been savagely ripped open and mutilated. They plan to make the offering in a necromantic ritual, where they hope to resurrect the Devourer and use him to do their bidding. Needless to say, it will be _very_ bad if that happens."

"This is far more than we bargained for," I said.

"That may be so, Sargoth. But we are still bound to the contract, no matter what it may require, and we _will_ see it through to completion," Galthar stated firmly.

"I could help you, if you wish," the woman offered. "I don't know how much use I can be, but it's the least I can do to repay your kindness."

"I'm afraid that would be a bad idea," Galthar shot back. "We don't need yet another member in our group to slow us down."

"Wait Galthar," I butted in. "Surely you don't mean to just leave her here at the mercy of these monsters!"

"She can find her own way out, Sargoth," the Altmer replied with his usual smugness. "I don't want her creating an additional burden for us. I intend to fulfill this task, and she will only add to our problems."

"She'll be killed in seconds! You heard what she said, and we know what we're dealing with. The Black Sun are obviously powerful, and I don't think she'll last very long if she comes across more of them," I said with boiling frustration at Galthar. I couldn't believe he was so willing to just leave her on her own in her present condition.

"Do not forget your place in this group, Dunmer!" Galthar barked. "_I _am in charge here, and I won't have you questioning my decisions! Is that clear?!"

"He's right, Galthar," Shadow said, stepping in to my defence. "If we leave her here, I'm afraid she won't stand a chance against these cultists." The Argonian turned and faced the woman. "Have you any combat training?"

"Yes, somewhat," she answered. "I'm certainly not Fighters Guild material, but I can hold my own. I…I don't wish to be a bother to you guys. If you can spare me a weapon, I can get out of here on my own."

"Nonsense," Shadow quickly replied. "You're coming with us. We'll make sure to get you out of here after we deal with the Black Sun. I promise you won't be a burden. _Right_, Galthar?!"

The High Elf grunted in irritation. "_Fine_, blasted lizard, have it your way! In the future however, I would strongly recommend you refrain from defying me again."

Shadow drew a spare dagger from his belt and gave it to the woman. "Here, take this. It's not much, but it's better than nothing."

"We should keep moving," Soren said, and with that we continued on our way.

Our group swiftly but silently trekked through the extensive network of tunnels. Galthar took the lead as usual with Shadow closely behind him. The air was thick and damp; I could almost feel it closing in around me. The shadows that clung to the dreary halls looked like they were threatening to swallow me whole. This place unnerved me more and more the further down we traveled. We came across a group of five cultists who noticed us and immediately brandished their weapons and charged towards us. I saw a shock spell shoot from Soren's left hand that staggered one of the cultists. Galthar drew his Daedric blade Necrosanctus from his sheathe and gracefully spun it in his hand before joining the fray.

I saw that the cultists were much too close to use my bow, so I opted for my sword. I dashed towards the cultist closest to me, and I narrowly dodged a fireball he hurled at me. Twirling the sword in my hand, I spun around as I dodged yet another spell from the cultist. With a quick motion of my wrist, my blade plunged through his chest and he promptly dropped dead to the floor. I saw Galthar impale one of the other cultists with his sword and I immediately saw her soul being sucked into one of his black soul gems. Necrosanctus gave off a vibrant shimmer as the Altmer proceeded to recharge the blade with the soul of his fallen opponent.

The skirmish was brief and rather painless. I looted some potions from our felled enemies, and one of them even had a few lockpicks, much to my delight.

I was beginning to wonder just how deep underground these tunnels went. I feared that there was simply no end to them, and that we would become lost and doomed to aimlessly wander until we became overpowered by the Black Sun or simply succumbed to starvation. I had grown quite bored of the repetitive and monotonous sight of the tunnels; I could almost feel my sanity being drained from my mind and viciously swallowed by the lingering darkness. I was silently begging for a change of scenery from these horrific tombs. Only seconds later though, I instantly remembered that you should always be careful what you wish for.

We came onto a wide ledge that was built high up into a jagged rock face. As I looked way down below us, I could see that this ledge overlooked a wide, expansive area that I guessed to be a shrine of some sort. A thick swarm of green mist rose from the depths beneath us, giving the entire area a ghostly, haunting feel to it. Many towering spires of stone stood high, reaching upwards far past where I could see. What caught my attention the most however, was the large, black granite altar which sat at the far end of the monstrous chasm. Several tall braziers stood along both sides of the grand structure which were burning luminous green flames. Looming menacingly over the altar was a statue of a giant, grotesque beast. Who exactly the statue was supposed to be depicting, I was unsure. A cauldron nearly the size of five boulders sat on the very center of the altar, I could see fumes as dark and thick as storm clouds emitting from it.

"This must be where the Black Sun perform their sacrifices to resurrect the Devourer," whispered Soren as we all looked on to the grim sight before us.

"What in Oblivion do we do now?" asked Shadow. "Galthar?"

I could see a look of uncertainty and confusion on the Altmer's face through the dim lighting of the flaming braziers. I was surprised to see nobody else here besides us.

"If these cultists really do intend on resurrecting this Devourer, then they most certainly need to be stopped," Galthar said. "We have no idea how many of them there are though. We don't want to just mindlessly charge into battle only to find ourselves hopelessly outnumbered."

"Well we need to do _something_," said Soren. "We're sitting ducks up here. We should at least look around a bit and see if we can find anything useful."

We all seemed to be in agreement with Soren and we made our way down a set of stairs which took us down from the ledge. I looked once again to the black altar standing in the mist, the hulking statue glaring at me. As our group investigated the massive shrine, I noticed countless rows of stone slabs surrounding the altar. Judging from the dried up patches of blood and scraps of flesh lying about, I deduced that the slabs were used for sacrificial purposes. The victims would have been laid on the slabs, and then the Black Sun would do…whatever it was they did to them.

Our exploration was cut short when suddenly our ears were met with the thundering echo of footsteps rapidly approaching. We took cover in the shadows where we were certain we would not be spotted. The footsteps grew louder as they drew nearer, it almost sounded like the march of a grand army stepping onto a battlefield. After a moment, I could see swarms of Black Sun cultists pouring into the room. Each of them was wearing a cloak as black as midnight itself. Everyone in our group made certain not to utter a single sound. We knew we were greatly outmatched, and to be discovered would mean certain death for all of us.

The cultists positioned themselves in a precise formation in front of the altar. I figured there had to be at least a hundred of them, probably more. They were arranged in long rows of straight lines, pretty much covering the entire distance of the shrine. They stood as still as statues once they got into place, and then I saw a few more cultists enter the room, escorting a group of their captured victims to the stone slabs. I could see that the victims were blindfolded, and even though their eyes were hidden I could still faintly hear their whimpers, and I knew that they must have been terrified beyond belief. I knew this wasn't going to end well for these men and women.

"There's no way we can take them all on," Shadow whispered almost inaudibly. We knew the Argonian was right. As much as we might have wanted to help these people, we knew that challenging the Black Sun right now would be a fool's game. With all of them together like this, they would massacre us in a matter of seconds.

The prisoners were laid down onto the stone slabs, their arms and legs firmly shackled in place. I felt so helpless then, unable to do anything to stop this. All I could do was remain crouched in the shadows, forced to watch this twisted ceremony. Once all the prisoners were secured to the slabs, a cultist was placed in front of each one. I knew then that these prisoners were all going to be murdered at once, and probably eaten as well. Then, all of the cultists standing in the shrine began chanting together in unison. I didn't understand the language in which they spoke, all I knew was they were repeating the same strange mantra over and over again. The combined ferocity of their voices was like thunder in the sky amidst a storm, the echoes almost felt like they were threatening to bring down the mighty stones around us.

As the Black Sun continued their menacing chant, I noticed one of the cultists break from the front of the formation and step onto the altar. He was not wearing a hood like the others, and I could see clearly that he was a Redguard. I assumed that he must have been the leader of the Black Sun, the way he stood high and mighty over his loyal subjects, basking in their evil chants. He then raised a hand, and the chanting ceased at once. Silence filled the air, and everyone looked up to the man standing on the altar.

"My brethren," the leader spoke in a deep voice. "Today you shall witness the awakening of an ancient power long forgotten. A terrible beast that was thought to have been destroyed centuries ago! A beast that shares our endless hunger for the succulent taste of flesh." The legion of cultists beneath him looked on in silence, still completely motionless. They were almost like enslaved thralls the way they acted with unwavering obedience.

"We have spent years in long preparation for this moment! We have sacrificed hundreds of these wretched, inferior humans. And now, our triumph is near. With this one, final sacrifice, the ritual will be complete. With the hearts of these prisoners, the Devourer will rise at last, ready to do our bidding! Our moment has come my brethren! Our victory is at hand! Rejoice now, as we perform this last sacrifice, and witness the rebirth of the almighty Devourer!"

The chanting of the Black Sun erupted once more, their voices almost deafening to my ears. Our group was still crouched low in the shadows, not daring to make even the slightest amount of movement. The cultists standing over the doomed prisoners all drew knives from their robes. I could see them eagerly awaiting the orders of their leader to make their kill and begin their feast upon these people.

The Redguard leader looked down towards the stone slabs and nodded his head to the cultists.

"Commence the feast!" he barked. I could see the prisoners squirming on the slabs, desperately trying to escape their inevitable, gruesome fate. The cultists raised their daggers high in the air. Soren and Shadow turned their heads away, unable to watch what was about to happen. The shrine was overtaken by a deathly silence once more.

And then, simultaneously, the cultists drove their daggers right through the prisoners' hearts. Agonized screams filled the air as the Black Sun mercilessly carved and tore off the flesh of these innocent victims. I could almost feel my stomach collapse inside me. My bones felt as brittle as glass. I was horrified at what was taking place. But I couldn't look away. This was undoubtedly the cruelest thing I had ever seen in my life, but for some reason my eyes refused to focus on anything else. It was like some otherworldly force was holding my head in place, making me watch this ruthless butchery.

The screams of the sacrificial prisoners continued to echo throughout the dark shrine. The chanting was growing louder and more thunderous every second. The cultists leaned over their respective victims, and began to viciously consume their very flesh.

I continued to watch in horror as rivers of blood poured onto the ground. The sound of skin being savagely ripped off and limbs torn asunder was becoming near unbearable. Shadow was right; no amount of drink was going to let us forget this. This was a moment I was going to remember for the rest of my life, and I had a feeling my dreams were going to be a playing field for Vaermina for many months.

The screams stopped soon after, and I knew that the prisoners were now dead. At least their suffering was over, and they wouldn't have to endure any more of the Black Sun's brutality. The cultists continued their feast upon the deceased corpses of the prisoners. I could hear bones snapping as they reached the innards of the bodies. Galthar and I were the only ones still watching, and I could see that even he was disturbed by this sight.

"Bring their hearts to the altar and place them in the cauldron!" the Redguard ordered the cultists.

They complied and began slicing through the bodies once more. They swiftly reached their hands through the torn flesh and soon enough each of them was holding a heart. A heart that only mere moments ago was beating within a living person. The cultists slowly walked to the altar, and they ascended a staircase that led up to the top of the massive cauldron. Without hesitation, the hearts were dropped into the cauldron, and the cultists came back down and rejoined the formation. Even from where we were, I could see the streaks of fresh blood running down their robes.

The leader of the Black Sun turned to face the cauldron and lifted his arms in the air.

"Rise, mighty Devourer! Rise, so that you may taste flesh once more, and spread your fury and terror across the land! Hear our call! Rise!"

Still hopelessly outmatched, all we could do was remain where we were and let them complete their ritual. Whatever this thing was they were resurrecting, it would without a doubt be extremely powerful. I doubted that the five of us would be able to defeat it, as well as the swarm of cultists surrounding us. It seemed that we were truly doomed.

Then, the ground began to shake. An earthquake with the fury of a god erupted all around us. Combined with the roaring chants of the Black Sun, I felt pure terror festering within my heart.

A rush of green smoke arose from the cauldron, shrouding the entire area in its thick mist. The rumbling continued and the smoke slowly began to disperse.

And then, amidst the swirling haze, a disfigured hand emerged.


	23. Altar of the Black Sun (Part III)

I could only watch from the shadows at the horror that was slowly rising from the black altar before us. I could hear the demonic chants of the Black Sun rising in both pace and volume through the hovering mist. The ground continued to shake violently beneath my feet, almost threatening to topple me onto my back. I could see the faces of my companions and knew they were as afraid as I was. Even Galthar looked uneasy, and that Altmer was as brash and confident as they came. As he drew Necrosanctus from its sheath, I saw Shadow stringing his bow, and Soren raised his hands ever so slightly and began preparing a spell. I soon followed suit and readied my own bow despite knowing it would probably be useless against the creature emerging before us.

All of a sudden, the shaking ceased, as did the chanting of the cultists. Silence filled the air once more. This wasn't a peaceful, soothing silence however. No, this was the kind of silence that sends a deathly chill through every bone of your body, almost making you feel like you're frozen beneath a thick sheet of ice over a frigid ocean in the depths of winter. The kind of silence that makes every hair on your body stand on edge, that sends your heart beating faster and louder than a legion of sprinting racehorses. The kind of silence that can drive a man insane and paralyze him in utter terror. As our group continued to look at everything that was going on, I suddenly found myself feeling claustrophobic. I almost felt like I was locked in a casket, like I was being buried alive beneath the cold ground, frantically tearing away at the lid as I struggled to breathe. This was unarguably the most afraid I had ever been my entire life at that point, and I was certain none of us would be making it out of there alive.

The altar shook for only a moment longer, and that was when I saw it. From the shaking, boiling cauldron rose a figure more terrifying beyond what any nightmare could conjure. As the Devourer finally revealed himself to the swarm of fanatics who were now bowing submissively before him, he let out a deafening screech that shook my very soul and could have even made one of the Daedric Princes shiver in fear. My ears literally felt like they had been pierced by a thousand knives. The Black Sun resumed their chant as the Devourer hovered above them, they almost looked like tiny ants compared to his enormous presence.

"Talos preserve us," whispered Shadow. Our whole group was simply in shock at the horrifying monster that this cult had worked so hard to resurrect. We knew we were soon going to be in for the fight of our lives, and it seriously looked like we didn't stand a ghost of a chance.

I began to study the Devourer closely, and I was soon able to make out his features. His face was severely disfigured, almost like it had been doused in a pool of scalding lava. It almost resembled a skull, save for the small remnants of charred flesh that could be seen. Atop his head sat a crown that I could see was adorned with bones and decorated with human skulls. He carried a long, black staff in his hand and sitting on the very tip of it was a small purple gem which I guessed to be a black soul gem. The most striking, and indeed most ghastly feature about the Devourer however, were the robes covering his scorched, mutilated figure. At first I couldn't quite make out the color or material. They certainly weren't made of cloth and they were much too bright to be leather. The robes were almost a dark tan-like color, with several blotches of red upon it; it was nothing like I had ever seen before. I studied him more closely, and it was then that I realized that the spots of red were actually blood. Keeping in mind what this creature was, it then dawned on me what the Devourer's robes were made of, and my stomach twisted into a knot as I realized that his gruesome attire was made of actual human flesh.

"How in Oblivion are we supposed to kill this thing?" Soren asked with a hushed whisper. We all shared the Breton's uncertainty, and we continued to gaze forward at the grisly scene playing out before us.

I looked at the Redguard leader of the Black Sun cult who was still standing upon the altar. He was certainly nervous, and it took him several moments to muster his courage and approach the Devourer who was hovering like a deity over his subjects.

"Almighty Devourer, at last you have come," began the Redguard with awe in his voice. "For years we have awaited your return. For years we have sacrificed thousands of pitiful mortals in your name, in the hopes of bringing you back to Mundus. Once more, you shall spread your fury across Tamriel. Once more you shall consume mortal flesh, and we shall have the honor of sharing our feasts together."

The Devourer looked down towards the Redguard, and I thought I could detect a spark of anger beginning to flare within his hollow, distorted eyes.

"As _I _am the one who resurrected you, I shall serve as your master," continued the Redguard with a slight quiver in his voice. "You shall bend to my will, and obey my commands. In return, you will be provided with unlimited prey in which to nourish your endless hunger. I am sure you understand."

Silence filled the air once more. Everyone in that room was waiting with dreaded anticipation what was going to happen next.

Then, the Devourer let out a deep, bellowing laughter with enough force to shake the whole room once more. I saw the Redguard beginning to tremble in terror. The Devourer raised his left hand, and the Redguard was suddenly clutching his throat, unable to breathe. He coughed and choked as he struggled for air, but the Devourer was all but slowly suffocating him. The rest of the Black Sun could only look on in horror at what was happening.

"_Insolent fool!"_ bellowed the Devourer in a grating, menacing voice. "_You dare try to control __**me!**__ Arrogant mortal, I serve no one!"_

The Redguard continued to struggle uselessly against the Devourer's grip. "No…p..please!" He began coughing up blood, and he collapsed to his knees to the altar.

"_I must indeed commend you for resurrecting me however_," the Devourer spoke once more, "_and I can think of no better honor than for you to serve as the first course of my grand feast! The feast that will shroud all of Nirn in a nightmare never seen before!" _

And with that, the Devourer closed his hand into a fist. I heard a sickening crack as the Redguard's head jerked violently to the side, and I watched his stiff, limp corpse fall to the ground. A gasp of terror escaped the lips of the Black Sun cultists. None of them even dared make a move against this monstrosity that had now ironically turned against them. Living up to his name, the Devourer descended upon the corpse of the Redguard and eagerly sank his teeth into the fresh meal. The Black Sun, as well as our group could only watch as the Devourer tore flesh from bone as he consumed the Redguard whole. The Devourer reached his skeletal, ghoulish hand into the Redguard's abdomen, ruthlessly tearing out the innards. Streams of blood dripped from the monster's mouth as he feasted upon the entrails like a succulent piece of meat.

The sound of bones tearing, muscles being savagely ripped apart, flesh being viciously gnawed away at echoed throughout the shrine. The Devourer was holding the dead Redguard with both his hands, making sure to squeeze every drop of blood, every ounce of flesh from his corpse. And then, once I saw that hardly anything remained of the Black Sun leader, the Devourer tossed away the mutilated mess to the horrified cultists standing quivering in fear before him. The monster then grabbed his staff and held it high in the air. I saw a purple beam of energy rushing from the Redguard's remains and into the staff, and I knew that the Devourer had just absorbed his soul, no doubt using it to strengthen himself.

"By the Nine, what have we done?!" one of the cultists shouted from the crowd.

"This…thing must be destroyed before it kills us all!" shouted another.

The cultists erupted into widespread panic and began scurrying like frightened rats. The mages began desperately hurling fireballs, waves of lightning, torrents of ice, anything they could muster to try and stop the Devourer who only laughed at their pitiful attacks. He let out another ear-piercing shriek, and at least half the cultists fell to the floor, paralyzed in fear. The monstrosity raised his staff again; the souls of the fallen cultists rushing towards him like a tidal wave on an ocean amidst a storm. The cultists that remained continued their useless attacks, and soon after they also fell.

"We can hide no longer," said Galthar. "We need to fight this thing."

"And get slaughtered just like these cultists here?!" protested Soren. "This thing looks unbeatable."

"Everything has a weakness Soren," I replied to the Breton. "We simply need to find it, and then exploit it."

"Sargoth is right," said Galthar. "But _keep your distance_, all of you. This Devourer is indeed powerful, and he'll kill all of us in seconds if we get too close."

I looked over to the woman whom we had rescued from the Black Sun earlier, who oddly enough still hadn't told us her name.

"You sure you're okay to fight?" I asked her. "You can hide if you want, while we try to fend off the Devourer."

"I don't think it really matters," the woman answered. "Once the Devourer is done with you, he'll come after me anyways. I might as well at least die fighting."

_Good point,_ I thought.

With weapons in hand and after taking a moment to brace ourselves, we emerged forth from the shadows and challenged the Devourer who had just about finished with the entire Black Sun cult. To think how they spent years preparing for this day, and it could not possibly have backfired in a worse way for them. The shrine was now littered with piles of lifeless bodies, and the Devourer made no hesitation to feed his hunger for flesh once more.

"All right, give it everything you've got!" bellowed Shadow as he swiftly released an arrow from his bow. The arrow glided with a faint whistle through the air and landed in the Devourer's lower abdomen. The creature merely laughed before ripping the arrow out and snapping it in half. His robes of human flesh whirled around him as he turned to face us, and I saw a sadistic smile cross his hideous face.

"_More prey to serve as my sustenance?!" _Blood dripped from his mouth with every word he spoke. "_Fools, I cannot be slain by mere mortals! I shall consume your very souls, and show you unimaginable terror beyond your worst nightmares. Tamriel will weep at my power. After I finish with you, there will be nothing to stop my endless hunger. I shall rise from this abyss, and take my vengeance upon those who sealed me away so long ago!"_

The Devourer laughed again and raised his hand, and I saw him charging a ball of purple energy. He released the dark spell, and the decayed, mutilated corpses of the fallen Black Sun cultists began to rise slowly from the ground.

"Shit, he's reanimated them!" said Soren. The cultists, who were now undead thralls bent to the Devourer's will, started charging at our group, moaning incoherently. A faint purple aura surrounded the zombies, their eyes completely empty and void of life. With my bow in hand, I quickly drew an arrow and set it in place. After taking only a brief moment to steady my aim, I released the arrow and it landed square between the eyes of one of the reanimated cultists. It immediately stopped dead in its tracks, and soon after it dissolved into an ash pile as the undead energy fuelling its existence quickly ebbed away.

I drew my sword as the thralls drew closer, and I swiftly leapt to the side as one of them swung his blade at me. He ran toward me and swung at me again, but I was able to block the attack with my own sword. I kicked the cultist in the leg, causing him to stagger. I raised my sword and brought it down upon the thrall, creating yet another ash pile. Suddenly, one of Soren's lightning spells flew straight past my face, missing me by mere inches. I turned around to see that he had just killed another thrall that was behind me, about to take me by surprise. I took a breath of relief, and gave the Breton a nod of gratitude.

The Devourer was hovering in the background, watching the immense battle. He continued to raise more of the Black Sun cultists while simultaneously hurling spells at us. The resurrected thralls were coming at us in swarms, their tormented moans sending chills down my spine. Soren unleashed a bolt of fire upon the beast, and it appeared to be slightly affected. The Devourer quickly healed itself however, and I then saw him raise his staff in the air. The black soul gem resting snug atop the staff began to radiate a vibrant glow, growing brighter and brighter every second. Soon, the entire length of the staff began to glow as well, and that was when suddenly an enormous swarm of souls began spewing forth from the shining gem.

"What is he doing?!" asked Galthar as we continued to fend off the undead cultists.

"I've never seen anything like this!" answered Soren as he incinerated a thrall. "It appears the Devourer is actually extracting the trapped souls within the gem and creating some sort of protective barrier around himself. Look at how the souls are hovering around him. They're like moths to a flame almost. What's even stranger is that the soul gem on his staff can hold an infinite number of souls."

Soren was right. The Devourer was completely surrounded by the souls he had trapped, swiftly swirling around him like a roaring whirlwind. The beast laughed at us as we fought on, just waiting for our strength to wane so he could finish us off and bestow the same fate upon us as he did the Black Sun.

"So you're saying he's invincible to our attacks?!" I asked in a panic.

"Unless we can find a way to dispel that barrier….yes," said Soren.

"_Fall before my might, arrogant fools! Fighting will only delay your imminent demise and prolong your suffering," _taunted the Devourer as we struggled to stay alive.

We slew waves of the cultists as the Devourer resurrected them and sent them against us. Our group made sure to stay close together in a tight formation and maintain a somewhat decent defence. With our combined strength and prowess, we were actually beginning to thin their numbers. Soren kept us all protected with a ward spell as well as providing healing to the group when needed. Shadow kept the thralls at bay with his bow while Galthar fought with both his blade and his arsenal of spells.

After defeating yet another wave of cultists, the Devourer once more bellowed a deafening shriek, causing me to plug my ears for several seconds. The monster lowered himself to ground level, and with the barrier of souls still swirling around him, he began charging a spell in his hand. The Devourer slammed his hand forcefully into the ground, sending a tremendous shockwave which shook us all off our feet.

I felt pain searing through my body from the impact of that powerful spell, almost like I had been stabbed right in the side. I staggered a few times as I tried to get up, but I was eventually able to regain my footing. The Devourer took to the air once more and before I could process anything, he swooped down at me with an outstretched hand. I managed to jump from his path at the last second, but not before he grazed my side with his hand which sent a sharp, burning sensation all throughout me.

The rest of my companions continued to unload everything they had into the lich, with little success. The barrier of souls kept the Devourer safe from any attack we threw at him. We were all growing quite fatigued from dodging his endless barrage of attacks, and I knew he would overwhelm us if we didn't think of something soon.

"How in Oblivion are we supposed to kill this thing?!" asked Galthar in a panicked voice.

I was thinking the exact same thing, and was trying desperately to think of something. The shrill cries of the Devourer continued to assault my ears, and I dodged yet another spell he shot at me. I fired countless arrows at the demonic creature, and every single one of them merely deflected off the barrier surrounding him. I then looked over to Soren and noticed a subtle smirk cross his face.

"His staff," the Breton muttered.

"What do you mean?" asked Shadow.

"The staff is the source of his power, and is what's keeping the barrier up," Soren explained. "If we can somehow separate the Devourer from his staff, then that should dispel the barrier and make him vulnerable, and perhaps even killable."

"At this point, I'm up to try anything," said Galthar.

Just at that moment, the Devourer plunged his staff deep into the ground, sending a deadly wave of energy throughout the shrine. The whole room shook with relentless ferocity, many of the stone structures dotting the area crumbled to the ground. I was sent flying back several feet, my back smashing straight against a pillar. Pain surged through me as I struggled to get up, my legs giving out and forcing me back down several times. My muscles throbbed every inch of me, like they had been lit aflame. I could hardly move at all, and yet I still was able to muster the remainder of my strength to get back up. For I knew it would mean my death if I didn't.

After steadying myself once more and able to focus, I grabbed my bow and set an arrow into place against the string. The Devourer was a good distance away from me, focused on the rest of the group. I planned my shot carefully and precisely, analyzing the best possible angle to make the shot. My hand began to shake against the tension of the bowstring as I waited for the opportune moment to fire. I was running low on arrows, and I had to make this shot count. The Devourer turned to face me, and after taking but a single breath, I let my arrow fly.

I waited with dreaded anticipation as the arrow soared like a hawk through the mist. Time itself seemed to slow down, almost as if it were teasing me in prolonging my anxiety. The Devourer stared at me with a piercing, burning hatred festering in his eyes. He took notice of the arrow rapidly approaching him and attempted to dodge it, but he was not fast enough. My arrow found its mark, and it hit exactly what I was aiming for.

The soul gem atop his staff shattered into thousands of tiny shards as my arrow pierced it. A rush of relief surged inside me at my success. The massive swarm of tormented souls surrounding the Devourer began to dissipate almost immediately, scattering wildly in all directions through the air in a manic chaos.

"_You fools, what have you done?!"_ howled the Devourer as he hopelessly watched all his trapped souls escape him. His staff then shattered along with the soul gem. The Devourer gave a final, desperate cry. He was vulnerable now; this was our chance to defeat him forever.

"Excellent shot Sargoth!" yelled Shadow. "That seems to have done the trick. Everyone, give him everything you've got!"

Our group unleashed all our fury upon the Devourer, and at last I could see that we were hurting him. Hope began to kindle inside me for the first time during this whole mission. The Devourer carelessly and recklessly hurled his magic at us, furious that we had destroyed his source of power and severely weakened him. The tides of battle now swayed in our favor.

Soren and Galthar were sending torrents of their strongest magic at the Devourer while I continued to fire my remaining arrows at it. I could see the lich was growing weaker every second, his demise was now inevitable. I drew my last arrow from my quiver, carefully setting it in place. As I pulled back the bowstring, I saw Soren charging an offensive Restoration spell in both his hands, which are quite deadly to the undead. The Breton and I exchanged a subtle nod with each other, and then we simultaneously delivered our final blows to this monstrosity.

Soren's holy spell made impact with the Devourer just as my arrow pierced him straight through the chest. He let out a roar of pain, and he started thrashing about violently and uncontrollably. The ground around me began to quake once more. The Devourer began rapidly disintegrating as his howls of pain continued, and soon enough the nightmarish monster was nothing but a heaping pile of ashes and bones.

I slung my bow back over my shoulder over my now empty quiver. No one in the group said anything for several moments. Perhaps we were all just too overwhelmed with everything that happened, or maybe we were just too relieved to have actually defeated the Devourer. As the others began searching the shrine for anything useful to take, I merely sat down and rested my back against one of the pillars. I wiped off the sweat dripping down my forehead as I caught my breath. Now that the fighting was over and the adrenaline was now longer flowing through me, I was beginning to feel the full extent of my injuries. The throbbing pain racked my entire body, like I had been shot with a hundred arrows. I rummaged through my pouch and was able to find a healing potion tucked at the bottom. After taking a swig of the liquid, I could feel the pain starting to subside.

"Well, that's the end of that," said Galthar as he kicked an ash pile with his foot.

"Is everyone all right?" asked Shadow, and we all gave the Argonian a nod.

I finally stood up again as my muscles began to ease. I looked around at the mass carnage that lay all across the ground. I found it amusing that the Black Sun had brought about their own undoing by trying to control something far beyond their power. They were greedy and short-sighted, and they paid dearly for it.

"Let's head back up to the surface," said Shadow. "Gods know I've had enough of this place."

It was late afternoon when we found our way out of the Black Sun's lair. I can say with all honesty I was actually delighted to see the shining rays of the sun. During our fight with the Devourer I seriously doubted I would ever see sunlight again. The graveyard was certainly less scary in the daytime.

It began to lightly snow as we found our horses exactly where we left them and mounted up. I turned to take one last look at the cathedral in which we had almost met our end, hoping that I would never lay eyes on this evil place again.

"I suggest we head back to Chorrol immediately and report to the guard Captain we have taken care of the Black Sun, although technically the Devourer did that for us," said Shadow. "We'll spend the night there and head for Fort Blackmoon tomorrow morning."

"Wait," spoke up the woman we had rescued, who was sitting behind me on my horse. "I just want to thank you so much for saving me from them. I know for a fact I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for all of you. I'll forever be in your debt."

"I think you should come back with us to Fort Blackmoon," Shadow spoke again. "We can treat the rest of your wounds properly, and you can rest for as long as you need."

I expected Galthar to protest, but the Altmer remained silent atop his steed and simply looked to the horizon. Our group took off into the midday sun, making due haste to Chorrol as we pushed our horses as fast as their legs would carry them.

* * *

"The Black Sun cult has been eliminated," said Galthar to Chorrol's guard Captain. "I believe our payment is in order."

"You truly defeated them? All of them?" asked the Captain with slight astonishment in his voice. "I don't even know what to say. To be truthful, I wasn't holding out much hope for your return. Thank Talos I've been proven wrong."

"We almost _didn't_ make it out alive," I said to the Captain. "The cultists were kidnapping people to use as sacrifices to resurrect a powerful lich called the Devourer. We actually witnessed the resurrection ceremony, and the beast then slaughtered the whole damn cult."

"Gods preserve us," the Captain said in horror, "_please _tell me you stopped it."

"We did," I said, "thanks to a bit of quick thinking on mine and Soren's parts."

"And what of the missing villagers? Were any of them alive?" asked the Captain.

"Besides this woman here, no," said Shadow with a hint of remorse. "They were butchered like animals. These people were sadistic cannibals, eating their prisoners alive and dissecting them for their innards."

"I-I'm sorry you had to go through all that," said the Captain, "but you have my sincerest thanks for your deeds. Cyrodiil is a safer place now with that cult gone, and I can rest easy now knowing that these kidnappings should finally stop. And as for your payment, here. This should be enough to split between all of you." The Captain reached for a large coin purse and handed it to Galthar.

"If you wish, you are free to spend the night in the guard barracks," offered the Captain. "You will be provided your own rooms as well as a free dinner and any drinks your hearts' desire."

"Thank you, we humbly accept your most generous offer," said Galthar. I certainly was up for a fresh-cooked meal after the ordeal we had been through.

It was late in the evening by the time we finished our meal. We ate with the rest of the guards, most of whom got drunk within minutes of the drinks being served. We spent most of the time just reminiscing about past adventures, telling jokes with one another, occasionally singing the odd merry tune. It was a nice change of atmosphere from the cold, horrifying tomb we had just come from. The large crowd was a bit much for me though, and I sat by myself next to a hot fire with my tankard of whiskey in hand.

After the dinner was over I went to the cozy little room that was provided for me and immediately plopped down onto the bed. I was glad to finally be in complete solitude so I could have a chance to just relax and collect my thoughts. I was still quite shaken with that whole Black Sun ordeal, and frankly I was amazed we actually came out of there alive. The terrible images of that crypt were still fresh in my mind, haunting me over and over again. I almost felt like a small child waking up in the middle of the night from his first nightmare. The horrid memories continued to cycle through my mind, plaguing me like an incurable disease, and I found myself unable to sleep even though I felt weariness in my eyes. Luckily I had some moon sugar left over and seeing as I was alone I didn't see the harm in one little whiff. Only after lighting up my pipe and having a short smoke was I able to somewhat clear my head enough to find some measure of peace. I drifted into slumber soon after, and I managed to sleep well into the next morning. It was Soren who woke me up, and after having a small bite to eat, our group left Chorrol and started heading our way back home.

* * *

Upon arriving back at Fort Blackmoon I immediately headed to the bar in the lounge to rest my weary bones. A couple of the others were down there making idle conversation, though I mostly just tuned them out. I was quietly enjoying an ice cold mug of ale when I felt a light slap upon my shoulder.

"It's about time you got back!" said Valryn cheerfully as he took a seat next to me. "How was your mission? Got any heroic stories to tell me?"

I was silent as I merely took another swig of my drink. I gave Valryn a grim look, and I saw his expression quickly change.

"Honestly Valryn, I want to forget everything about the last couple days," I said. "I'm glad you weren't with us. The things I saw were straight from a child's worst nightmare, worse even."

"Wow, sorry to hear that buddy. I noticed Galthar, Shadow and Soren were quiet as well when you got back. They went straight for a tankard just like you did," Valryn said.

"I'll suffer a thousand hangovers if it means killing every brain cell that will remember that mission," I said. "I know I won't be sleeping peacefully for months. So what about you anyways?"

"Eh, I haven't done anything real special," answered Valryn. "Just done a few thievery missions here and there, mugged a few old ladies on the street, fucked a couple wenches. You know, the usual stuff."

I chuckled slightly to myself. "You certainly know how to keep yourself entertained."

"You should probably see Anora, I know she's been missing you and will be ecstatic to know you're back," said Valryn.

"I will. I just had to get some liquor in me after the long journey back," I replied.

After finishing my drink I went upstairs to find Anora, as the truth was I missed her dreadfully as well. I passed by one of the bedrooms and saw Rasha tending to the wounds of the woman we had rescued from the Black Sun.

"Hey Sargoth, you feeling all right? Any injuries you need me to take a look at?" the Redguard asked.

"No thanks Rasha, I'll manage," I said.

"You're sure? All right, suit yourself." Rasha looked at the woman who was lying in the bed. "Now you stay right here and I'll be back in a few minutes," said Rasha as she got up to leave.

"Thank you," was all the woman said. Rasha left the room and it was just the two of us.

"How you feeling?" I asked as I took a seat in a nearby chair.

"Much better," she answered. "Thank you all so much, again. I'll never forget what you've done for me."

"Think nothing of it," I said. "I'm glad we were just able to save at least one person from those vile cultists."

"Oh, by the way," I added a moment later, "you never did tell me your name."

The woman went to answer when I heard someone approaching. I looked over and was overwhelmed with joy to see it was Anora.

"Sargoth!" she said excitedly as we ran to each other and shared an intimate embrace. I sorely missed those dreamy green eyes of hers, and feeling her arms wrapped around me again was warmer than a cozy fire in the winter time.

"I'm so glad you're back safe," she said as our lips locked together in a passionate kiss. I gently stroked her thick tresses which felt softer than even the finest silk. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," I said as I brought my fingers along the smooth contours of her arm. "After what I've been through the last day or two, I couldn't be happier to be back home."

Anora giggled as she kissed me again, her tongue slowly finding its way into my mouth. "Well I couldn't be happier to have you back home. I always miss you when you're g-"

Anora stopped mid-sentence, and I saw her looking over at the woman lying in the bed. She let out an astonished gasp.

"S-Sidra?!" Anora said as a tear escaped her eye. The woman in the bed turned to face us, her eyes glowing alight with elated surprise.

"Anora?! Is..is that you sis? Is it truly you?!"

"Yes Sidra, of course it's me!" Anora answered as she ran to her elder sister. The reunited sisters shared a heartwarming embrace and were both crying tears of pure joy upon seeing each other for the first time in years.

"I missed you so much Anora," said Sidra, still weeping.

"I missed you too Sidra. So, so much. I truly never thought I'd see you again!"

The women let go of each other and Sidra sat up in the bed. I had no idea this was Anora's sister we had rescued from the cultists, but unintentionally bringing them together again brought within me a feeling of happiness beyond measure.

"I'm so sorry I left, Sidra. I'm so terribly sorry," Anora said remorsefully as she also continued weeping. "I had no choice though. I couldn't stay after what I had done."

"I know Anora, I know. I found our uncle's body as well as the note you left. You did right in killing him, Anora. You did what I wanted to do for so long, but was never strong enough to actually do it," said Sidra.

"I felt so terrible about leaving, I really did. I didn't know what else to do though. I wasn't…I wasn't sure if you would understand."

"Of course I understand, Anora. You did what you had to do. Uncle forced himself on you, and you acted in self-defence. There was nothing else you could do. I was just so worried about you after you left. I never heard from you again, I wasn't even sure if you were still alive."

"I know, and I'm so sorry for making you worry about me. You're my big sister, and I love you. I shouldn't have done that to you. I hope you'll forgive me."

"I love you too Anora, and there's nothing _to_ forgive. I'm just glad you're all right."

The sisters embraced again and Anora sat beside Sidra on the bed.

"So where did you go after you left?" asked Sidra.

"Honestly, I don't even remember," said Anora. "All I remember was running as far away from that place as possible. I knew that the authorities would probably be after me, so it obviously wasn't safe to stay in any nearby villages. I was on my own for quite a while, until the Crimson Serpents found me, then this became my home."

Sidra chuckled at her little sister. "Sounds like you've had your share of adventure!"

"I have," she replied. "So what about you, anyways? And Leana? Where is she?"

"I don't know, Anora. By the gods, I honestly don't know where Leana is," Sidra answered regretfully. "Shortly after you left, our uncle's farm was attacked by a pack of bandits. They ransacked the entire place, eventually burning it to the ground before leaving. They almost killed both of us, but fortunately we managed to escape unharmed. The bandits chased us, and we were forced to separate to throw them off. After losing them, I began searching frantically for her, but she was nowhere to be found. I don't know if she was captured by the bandits, or if she was able to escape."

"All I know is that I failed her, Anora. As the oldest sister, father left me responsible for her safekeeping, and I failed. This is all my fault." Sidra was weeping heavily, Anora wrapped her arm around her sister's shoulder to try and comfort her.

"Don't say that Sidra, it wasn't your fault. I'm sure Leana is fine, she can look after herself. You didn't know those bandits would attack. You did your best to keep Leana safe. Don't beat yourself up over this, please Sidra," Anora said, trying to console her.

"You're right," Sidra said. "You don't know how overjoyed I am to see you again, knowing that you're safe." Sidra looked up at me. "It's because of your friend Sargoth here that I'm even here in the first place. It was him that made the decision to save my life. It's because of him that we're reunited now."

Anora also looked at me with the most beautiful and grateful smile on her face. "Thank you so much for finding her, Sargoth. There are no words that can express how grateful I am for this." Anora ran over to me and practically leaped into my arms, giving me yet another warm hug. I then decided to leave the sisters alone together to give them a chance to catch up after having been separated for so long.

I stepped outside where the shades of nightfall had swept over the land. The piercing, watchful gaze of the twin moons illuminated the starlit sky, bathing the glowing white snow in crystalline twilight. The mournful, lonely howl of a wolf could be heard miles away, echoing above the mountains in a haunting harmony with the faint breath of the winter wind. Snowflakes were falling gracefully to the ground, sparkling as clear and radiant as a diamond. I lay down in the snow, basking in the beauty of this serene night, the snowflakes trickling on me as they melted against my skin. I got out my pipe and immediately I could feel my body entering a trance-like euphoria as the smoke of the moon sugar engulfed me. As the wind blew against my face, I looked up to the moons and found myself in utter tranquility as their bright silver rays shined upon me. My body soon was yearning for sleep, and so content and peaceful was I that I fell asleep right there, beneath the eyes of the stars and in the arms of the wind.


	24. Insomnia

**_A/N: I couldn't really be arsed to edit this as much as I usually would, as I spent waaay longer than I wanted in writing this chapter, so I apologize for any mistakes. Thanks for reading and I hope you like the chapter_**_._

* * *

_2nd of Sun's Dawn, 4E 30_

_Last night was yet another sleepless night for me. I don't know why I am constantly being plagued by these chilling nightmares. Is Vaermina really so cruel that she takes personal delight in haunting my dreams night after night? Is it so much to ask to have one, just one peaceful night's sleep where I don't wake up nearly screaming? It's honestly getting to the point where I'm becoming afraid to even lie down in a bed, becoming afraid to go to sleep. Every night I dread the horrifying images my mind will force me to endure._

_I've been struggling with nightmares and insomnia my entire life. My mother used to tell me even when I was a baby that I would rarely sleep at night. She told me she would spend countless hours holding me, comforting me, singing to me, all in an effort to just get me to sleep. The odd times she was actually successful, I would usually awake again within a few hours crying even louder than before, and she would have to repeat the same thing all over again. Thinking back now, it's a miracle I didn't drive my mother completely insane. She must have felt so helpless and scared, being forced to watch her own child cry in agonizing fear after being tormented by yet another bad dream. Knowing that there was very little she could do to help must have been beyond excruciating. I would almost wager it was more painful for my mother than for me. I know that if given the chance, she would have taken all of my nightmares into herself if it meant freeing me of them, if it meant that I would be able to sleep peacefully at night. Strangely enough, the nightmares were easier to deal with when I was a child. Every time I would wake up in the middle of the night after a nightmare, my mother was always there to comfort me, to help ease my fears and assure me that everything was going to be all right. I can't even count how many times during my childhood I had to sleep with her in her bed. As bad as my dreams might have been, I knew that she would always be there for me, that she would try her hardest to make me feel better. But now that mother is gone, and I'm grown-up, I don't have that comfort anymore. Now, I'm forced to deal with my nightmares all on my own, I must find my own ways to cope with this...affliction. The only things I have for comfort now are the mugs of cheap mead I chug down every night, and the moon sugar that Jari keeps me well supplied with. It's quite pathetic how I can only get a decent night's sleep by getting high as a cloud or completely piss drunk, but if that's the only way to help keep my nightmares away, then so be it. I have noticed I've been becoming more dependent on those substances, I only hope it doesn't turn into a full-blown addiction._

_Anora worries about me a lot, and I can't say I blame her. I almost envy the woman, the way she just sleeps peacefully next to me in our bed, almost without a care in the world. I wish I could have the peace of mind that she has. I wish I could just rest my head on my pillow and drift into slumber within minutes. Unfortunately, Anora has also taken notice of my increasing substance dependence. She tells me that smoking and drinking so much will only serve to ruin my life. She says it will slowly eat away at me, change me into something terrible. Deep down, I know that she's right. I know this isn't the healthiest method of coping with my problems. But at the same time, she just doesn't understand. She doesn't understand the extent of my nightmares; she doesn't understand my desperation for peace of mind. Smoking and drinking gives me that peace of mind, and I just can't seem to make Anora understand how good doing it makes me feel. I know it's probably bad for me, but I don't really know what else to do right now._

_Anyway, enough about that I guess. Sidra took her leave of us yesterday after Rasha deemed her fit to travel again. She stayed with us for a few weeks under our care, and Rasha spent much of her time with her, nursing her back to health and all that. It was good for Anora to be reunited with her sister again after all these years, and the two of them were pretty much inseparable during Sidra's stay. Anora is obviously still quite torn up about her sister's departure, and I've been doing my best to console her. Anora pleaded with Sidra to stay here with us, but Sidra made it quite clear that she means to continue her search for Leana, the remaining sister. I certainly hope Sidra is successful in her search, and perhaps sometime in the future, a day will come where all three sisters are united again. Torgron forged her a brand new suit of armor as well as a sword and shield, so she should be more than able to defend herself now in her travels._

_I honestly don't know what today will bring. Things have been pretty quiet around here. I haven't even been on a contract since that whole Black Sun deal. But you never know, contracts are bound to start coming in again sooner or later, and hopefully I'll get a piece of the action. All I know is that I need to get out of this goddamn fort soon before I lose my mind._

* * *

"And so that's how I was able to slip out of the house undetected. I swear, if it weren't for that window already being open, there's no doubt in my mind I would've been caught," said Valryn as he crafted a stack of arrows at the forge and laid them down on the table beside me. I was at the alchemy station, trying my hand at brewing some poisons to apply to the arrows he made. So far I wasn't having much success.

I chuckled at the Dark Elf. "I know what you mean. You go through all the effort of breaking into a house unnoticed; you make as little noise as possible to evade detection from the residents, and at the end of it all, it turns out that someone is still awake. Definitely one of the most frustrating parts of burglary."

"I thought for sure I'd be spending the night in a dank dungeon," said Valryn as he continued forging more arrows. "It's scary how quickly something can go wrong."

"If it was a woman who almost caught you, I'm sure you would've been able to just coerce her into sleeping with you instead."

Valryn erupted into laughter. "You know me too well, Drelas! You know me too well. Say, how are those paralysis poisons coming along?"

"Eh, not too good Valryn," I replied somewhat embarrassingly. "I've got the right ingredients, I think. But every time I put them together all I get is a cloud of dust."

"Are you following the recipe?"

"Of course I'm following the damn recipe!" I grabbed some more samples of the required ingredients and began grinding them together in another attempt to make a poison.

"How the hell do alchemists get the patience for this?" I continued to break down the ingredients with my tools, and just when I thought I might be getting somewhere, my ingredients merely disintegrated once more.

"Oh to hell with it!" I bellowed as I threw the alchemy tools in frustration. I could hear Valryn trying to suppress his laughter. "No matter how many times I try, nothing seems to fucking work!"

"That's because you're breaking down the ingredients too fast," a voice replied behind me. Valryn and I turned around and saw that Moon was standing behind us. Her sudden appearance startled me; she really seemed to enjoy sneaking up on others and seeing their reaction.

"What do you mean?" I asked her.

Moon let out an exasperated sigh and walked over to the alchemy table. She grabbed a handful of the ingredients and placed them in the bowl.

"Just because you have the proper ingredients doesn't necessarily mean your creation will be successful," she said as she took the pestle and started carefully grinding the ingredients together. "Almost every novice alchemist I've seen makes the mistake of mixing their ingredients together much too quickly. They need a bit of time in order to properly and fully blend together. If you rush it, you'll just end up with dust every time."

Moon continued to slowly grind the ingredients in the small bowl as Valryn and I watched over her shoulder.

"Get me a couple vials would you?" Moon asked. I complied and quickly got a few small glass bottles from a nearby shelf.

I looked in the bowl and saw a dark, blood red liquid sitting inside of it. Moon took the bowl and began pouring the poison into each of the vials.

"Dip your arrows in this stuff, and anything they hit will be completely limp for hours," said Moon as she corked the vials. "You'll never find anything more potent than what I make. This will paralyze anything from people, to wolves, and even trolls."

"Wow, thank you," I said graciously. I was a bit envious of the woman's skill and how quickly and effortlessly she was able to brew the poisons.

"Don't get used to it," Moon replied snidely. "I only helped you this once because watching you fail like that was almost painful. But from here on out, you're on your own. Those are good poisons, so _please_ try not to waste them." And with that, the hooded woman left us, her silent footsteps almost inaudible.

"Well, that was nice of her," said Valryn. "She seems to like _you_ more than the rest of us."

"What makes you say that?" I asked curiously.

"You mean besides the fact she almost never talks to anyone?" the Dunmer replied. "One time I found one of her spell tomes lying on the ground. When I picked it up and she saw me with it, she damn nearly roasted my hide with one of her flame spells!"

I couldn't help but laugh at Valryn. I grabbed the vials of poison and carefully placed them in my pouch. After all, I never knew when I would need them.

I made my way downstairs to the lounge where the smell of dinner being made reached my nose. Rasha was roasting some fresh meat over a cooking spit. Anora was already sitting at one of the tables, and I made my way over to join her.

"Hey there!" she said eagerly as I kissed her cheek. Anora pulled me towards her, kissing me as she lightly stroked my beard. I took a seat at the table and began to fiddle with the silverware.

"So how are you feeling anyway?" I asked Anora. "I mean, with Sidra leaving. You holding up all right?"

Anora let out a deep sigh, and I saw a single tear glistening in her eye, which she was quick to brush away.

"Yeah, I'm okay, or at least I will be. Hopefully," she said. "You have no idea how badly I wanted her to stay. To see her again after all these years made me so happy, and then just like that, she's gone again. I wish more than anything in the world that Sidra could have stayed here with us. But I know she had to leave. Leana is still out there somewhere, and I know Sidra won't rest until she finds her."

"And I'm sure she will find her, Anora," I said, trying to sound at least somewhat consoling. "Do you have any idea where she might have gone?"

"Leana's best bet would have been to go to Valenwood. With our mother being Bosmer, we have some family that lives there," said Anora. "Or she could have stayed in Cyrodiil and perhaps gotten a job in one of the cities. It's hard to say where she is, but wherever she's at right now, I just hope she's safe."

"I'm sure she is," I said, giving Anora a smile.

"Thank you," she said, smiling back at me.

I started munching on a piece of bread as a few of the others began to pile into the room.

"Sargoth, your eyes are absolutely bloodshot!" said Anora, staring at me with a piercing, stern gaze. "How much have you had to drink last night?"

"What are you talking about? I'm a Dunmer; my eyes always look like this!"

"Don't give me that, I can tell when you've had one drink too many," she replied, clearly not buying my fib. "Drowning your problems in mead might seem like a solution right now, but sooner or later it's going to catch up to you."

"Oh he's not a baby, Anora!" I heard Torgron say in my defence as he joined us at our table. "Let the man drink as much mead as he wants."

"What, so he can end up like you?" Anora shot back.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" the Nord asked. "There ain't nothing wrong with having some mead to melt your sorrows away. Gods know it's the only way I've lasted this long."

"Alcohol isn't the solution to everything, Torgron. Over time, it just causes more problems than it solves. It destroys your life, and the lives of everyone around you," Anora said with frustration.

"You see Sargoth, this is why you never get married," said Torgron. "Nagging, tears and heartbreak are the only things you'll get out of a marriage. Valryn's got the right idea: find a pretty lady, fuck her a few times, and then be done with her."

"I'm not trying to nag, Torgron! I'm just concerned is all. I- never mind, forget I said anything."

"I'll be fine Anora," I said. "I can look after myself. I don't need you worrying about every little thing I do. Please, just get off my case."

Torgron looked over at me with a slight smirk on his face, and we subtly raised our mugs to each other before taking a swig of our drinks.

"Say, Shadow gave me an assignment he needs taken care of," said Torgron. "I was wondering if maybe you kids would like to come along?"

"What's the job?" I asked.

"I assume you're both familiar with the East Empire Company?" asked the Nord.

Anora and I both nodded at him.

"Well, they're going to be at the city of Anvil in the next couple days, importing some valuable goods aboard one of their ships to sell to the city. A deal is going to take place between the company and the town guards, who will be making sure everything goes smoothly."

"And I guess our job will be making sure it _doesn't_ go smoothly?" I asked.

"Right you are, Sargoth," replied the Nord. "Whoever arranged this job, they want us to intercept the deal and kill all the East Empire Company workers. Then once we've done that, we need to actually destroy the ship carrying all the goods. Not before helping ourselves to some of the loot, of course."

"Sounds dangerous," Anora said.

"Sounds _perfect_, this is exactly the kind of job I need," I said. "I'm dying of boredom in this place."

Torgron flashed a quick smile. "So, you guys are in?"

"Definitely," I answered almost instantly.

"Yeah sure, why not?" said Anora.

"That's what I like to hear!" said Torgron. "Anvil is about a two or three day journey from here. I'd like to be out and on the road early tomorrow morning.

"Hey…Torgron?" said Anora as the Nord got up from the table to leave the room.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks again for making that armor for Sidra before she left. It means a lot to me, and I appreciate it."

Torgron chuckled cheerfully. "Don't mention it, my dear girl! I wasn't about to let your sister go out into the wilds unprotected. That armor was some of my best work, if I do say so myself. It fit your sister perfectly."

"Well, I know it definitely wouldn't fit _me_. It probably weighs more than I do!" Anora said, laughing at herself.

"Anora, a bloody _tankard_ probably weighs more than you do," I added.

"Shut up," she retorted, giving me a playful nudge.

* * *

The sun was slowly rising in the sky the next morning as Torgron, Anora and I made our way outside and began making the final preparations for our journey to Anvil. The sky above was glowing vibrantly with colors of amber and red, almost like the heavens themselves were unleashing their wondrous beauty onto the world as the sun continued its gradual ascent. A small herd of around five deer had taken shelter beneath a tree, with patches of snow and frost periodically dropping to the ground from the branches. Three of them were merely small fawns, they were lying snug and cozy underneath their parents who were keeping them warm. The cold was fierce, as it always was. I could feel the harsh bite of the blowing wind against my face, threatening to freeze every ounce of skin right off of me. I envied Torgron that moment, being a Nord and all. All Nords are born with an inborn resistance to cold, and I bet this weather didn't faze Torgron in the slightest. I lifted my hood over my head, and although it certainly helped, it wasn't enough to deter the frigid breeze completely.

I felt a bit strange that moment, to be perfectly honest, going to Anvil again. I hadn't been there since my mother brought me that special day when I was just a boy. All those fond, treasured memories of her and I together began to play through my mind again, and I found myself missing her dearly once more. Anvil was a remarkable city, and I had been anxious to return again after all those years. But this time I was going there for an entirely different reason, and quite a malicious one at that. We were actually going to rob the East Empire Company, the single largest network of traders and merchants in Tamriel. This was going to be a dangerous mission, of that I was sure. And as the memories continued to race through my mind, I just hoped that they wouldn't be forever stained by whatever this contract decided to throw at us.

"All right, I think that's everything," muttered Torgron as he finished sorting his equipment and saddling his horse. "You guys ready?"

I nodded to the Nord as I looked through my own bag, making sure I had everything I needed. My quiver was full of freshly forged arrows, and I also brought along the vials of poison that Moon had made. I was eager to try out the poison on my arrows and see just how well it worked. I mounted my horse after fastening my sword to my belt and slinging my bow over my shoulder, and I looked out towards the brightening horizon as the clouds dispersed to make way for the rising sun.

The journey to Anvil was indeed long, taking us three days altogether by the time the whole journey was done. It was nice to get away from the chilling weather of northern Cyrodiil as we made our way further south, the white banks of snow and towering glaciers gradually being replaced with lush, temperate forests and tumbling waterfalls as far as the eye could see. Flocks of birds could be seen circling the vast sunlight as our steeds trekked ever onwards, their merry songs echoing to my very soul and comforting my mood. Very little happened on our way to Anvil. Occasionally we would come across the odd pack of wolves, or even a bear here and there, but we were always able to dispatch of them quickly. Anora and I would pick most of them off with our bows, and then Torgron would clean up whatever was left with his axe. We were actually quite an efficient trio, and I hoped that we would be able to get through this job smoothly.

As we came upon the crest of a towering hillside overlooking the vast, extensive valley, the clear blue waters of the ocean could be seen, stretching for miles and miles. The unmistakable stone walls of Anvil stood in the distance; fleets of ships could be seen coming and leaving the harbour. A small group of guards were patrolling the surrounding area below; as I looked further towards the city I could see travelers, merchants, and mercenaries making their way to the gates. A blanket of shadow loomed over the city from the afternoon sun, shrouding a large portion of the walls in darkness. Flowers danced in endless evergreen fields with the faint chorus of the wind, animals frolicking about without a single care. I suddenly felt a small surge of joy inside of me, I was glad to be back here after so long.

"Wow, isn't this beautiful?" Anora muttered. "This was one of my favorite spots to come when I was a girl. My friends and I would play here almost every day, years ago. We would spend hours watching the ships as they came and went, we would talk to all the different people who passed us by. And at night, we would lay right here, watching the shining stars in the sky. Life was…life was easier then. What I would give to have that carefree innocence back." A smile of nostalgia swept across Anora's face as her long auburn tresses blew in her face.

"Aye, I lived in Anvil for many years back when I was in the Fighters Guild," said Torgron. "I certainly have a lot of memories of this city. I made friends with nearly all the sailors and traders that stopped by the docks regularly. In fact, it was here that I first learned to sail and man a ship."

"Looks like we all have some sort of special bond with this place," I uttered.

"It would seem so," Torgron agreed. "If I can be perfectly honest here, I feel somewhat guilty, knowing what we're about to do, and in _this_ city of all places. But a job's a job, and we can't afford to let any personal feelings hinder our success."

"So what should we do first once we're in the city?" asked Anora.

"I don't know about the two of you, but I'm utterly beat from this journey," Torgron said. "Let's stop at The Count's Arms inn for a while, get a bite to eat and a couple drinks. Give us a chance to relax before the job."

We walked down the hill and made our way to the stables where we left our horses. After paying a fee to the stable boy, the three of us strode to the mighty gates of the city. Two guards were posted on each side of the gate, who saw gave us a kind greeting upon taking notice of us.

"Welcome to Anvil, travelers," said one of the guards. "I hope you had a safe journey. What is your business in Anvil?"

"No business my good sir," answered Torgron. "My companions and I are just here for food and supplies. We've been on the road for days, and we merely wish to rest our weary bones."

"Well if its food and rest you need, The Count's Arms has exactly that. That place has some of the best food in all of Cyrodiil, if you've got the coin of course."

"Thank you. So we're free to enter?"

"Yes, of course. Just keep your noses clean while you're here," said the other guard. "Enjoy your stay."

* * *

Anvil was exactly as I remembered it. The second we set foot through those gates, an intense feeling of nostalgia and sentimentality began to race through my mind. I remembered the exact moment I walked through those same gates the first time with my mother when I was only four years old. I remembered being completely awestruck as I first looked at the rich, extravagant architecture of all the houses and shops. I remembered never wanting to leave. I begged ma to let us stay here, and away from that pile of dirt that was Bravil. As I looked around at the magnificent vista surrounding us, I could suddenly feel my mother's presence, almost like she was right there beside me.

"Sargoth?" Anora's voice snapped me out of my trance and brought me back to reality. "Something wrong?"

"No, I…I'm fine," I mumbled. "Just nostalgic, that's all."

"We can go sightseeing later guys," remarked Torgron. "We need to get to the inn first. I'll ask the innkeepers and see if they know anything about the deal tonight. It certainly won't hurt to have as much information as possible."

When we passed through the doors to The Count's Arms, I instantly recognized that warm welcoming feeling I felt my first time here. The spacious tavern had not changed in the slightest from what I remembered. People of all different races and backgrounds were seated with one another at the tables, enjoying some drinks as they told jokes and exchanged their tales of adventure. The three of us took a table right next to the fireplace, and I set all of my equipment to the side as I sat down and stretched my weary legs.

The warmth of the fire was quite soothing, and I quickly relaxed myself as I looked around. You can always count on The Count's Arms to be well maintained and kept spotless. Most inns or taverns I've ever been to usually reek of piss and vomit and stale mead. There's almost always a guarantee that a fight will break out, and will end up with broken tables and broken bones. But not here, not The Count's Arms. Here, everything and everyone was mostly kept under control. The tables and floors were cleaned regularly, the food was always fresh, and you could always rent a bed without having to worry about lying in a puddle of the last person's piss. The environment was orderly and safe, a place you could just unwind after a long day's work without any of the commotion of most taverns.

As our group got settled at our tables, the innkeeper spotted us and promptly made his way over to us.

"Welcome travelers!" he boomed with a sincere smile. "Anything I can get for you?"

"Mead for me, my good sir," said Torgron.

"And I as well," I said.

"Very good, and for you, madam?" the innkeeper asked, looking to Anora.

"I'll have tea, please and thank you," she responded. "For once, I'd like to have something that's _not _alcoholic.

The innkeeper left us to fetch our beverages.

"What's the matter Anora? Can't handle your liquor?" teased Torgron.

"No, I'd just prefer my mind to be clear right now. Especially considering the task that still awaits us tonight."

"She makes a good point, Torgron," I admitted. "We need to watch how much we drink. Gotta keep a straight head for the mission tonight."

"Oh what's a few drinks gonna hurt?!" bellowed the Nord. "I'm not gonna get shitfaced. I just wanna relax for a bit and get my thoughts together before our task."

The innkeeper soon returned with our drinks. He smiled as we each laid out some gold for him on the table.

"If there's anything else I can get you, please do not hesitate to ask!" said the innkeeper cheerfully.

"Anything interesting happening at the docks tonight?" Torgron asked.

"Well, the word on the street is the East Empire Company is gonna be here tonight, conducting some rather large business deal," replied the innkeeper. "Whole shipload of goods from the Summerset Isles. Apparently they had a run of bad luck, and half the crew was killed during a terrible storm."

"Is that so?" asked Torgron, and I could see the subtle sneer on his face.

"Aye, and the ship sustained some damage as well. But this is obviously an important deal, because the East Empire Company still fully intends to go through with it, despite what's happened. It'd be a damn shame if some troublemakers decided to take advantage of this misfortune."

"Yes, it most certainly would," I sneered. Anora glanced at me, and I caught a mischievous sparkle in her eye.

Once the innkeeper left our table once more and was out of earshot, we all began to chuckle out loud at this unexpected surprise.

"Could we _possibly_ have asked for a better turn of events?!" Torgron uttered in excitement. "Talos is truly smiling upon us this day."

"Um, I don't think Talos would approve of us stealing from the single largest trading company in Tamriel," said Anora.

"Oh nonsense! The East Empire Company is run by a bunch of corrupt bureaucrats who care nothing for the people of Tamriel," Torgron shot back. "They're without a doubt the biggest criminal organization in existence, except they're actually backed by the government. Those vile scumbags are worse than the Dark Brotherhood if you ask me. Trust me; we're doing everybody a favor by botching this deal."

"It doesn't matter if we have some god's blessing or not," I spoke up. "This is still a dangerous job, and we need to stay sharp as a knife if we hope to come out of this alive. Divine blessings don't complete missions, only skill."

* * *

By the time we left The Count's Arms, the darkness of nightfall had descended upon the land, and the streets were barren and empty, save for the small number of guards on patrol. As we came through the gates to Anvil's port, I could see a good number of ships moored to the docks. A faint reflection of the twin moons could be seen on the water, which was shrouded by a veil of mist. Gentle waves splashed against the harbor periodically, causing the ships to rock back and forth with their sway.

"All right, so the innkeeper said that the ship we're looking for is damaged, so it should be easy enough to spot," muttered Torgron.

"That looks like it over there, on the other side of the port," I pointed in the ship's direction.

"I'd say you're right, Sargoth. That's definitely the one," replied the Nord.

The three of us lowered ourselves to a crouch and slowly edged towards where the deal was taking place. Now being able to get a closer look, I could see clearly what was going on. A few squads of town guards were standing by the ship, and they were in the middle of a conversation with the workers of the East Empire Company, although I could not hear what was being said. We took cover in a thick growth of bushes to avoid being spotted by anyone.

"Okay, so what's the plan?" Anora whispered.

"I think we should wait a bit before making our move," Torgron answered. "I'd reckon this is when they would be expecting an attack to take place, so they're probably on alert. Let's wait until they actually start unloading some of the cargo. We should be better able to catch them off their guard that way."

"Sounds good enough," I whispered. "Anora and I should try and take a few of them out silently with our bows, thin their numbers a little."

Anora and Torgron nodded in agreement, and we then turned our focus back to the deal that was taking place.

The guards spent quite a long time talking with the East Empire Company traders. I found myself fidgeting my fingers nervously, occasionally running my hand along my bow. I could feel the tension beginning to boil within me. I needed a smoke, and badly. Anora noticed my anxiety, and she put her hand on my shoulder and gave me a soft peck on the cheek.

After what seemed like forever, the guards and the traders concluded their conversation, and they then began the process of unloading the cargo from the ship. The three of us remained still and silent in our hiding place, and I carefully reached for an arrow from my quiver. I saw Anora do the same, and we both prepared to make our shots.

"Any second now," said Torgron. "Wait until the guards have their hands full with the goods, and then make your shots."

Sweat was pouring down my brow as Anora and I raised our bows and lined up our arrows. The scene ahead of us was fairly tricky to make out, due to the thick fog, but several of the traders were carrying torches that provided adequate lighting for us. Once I picked my target, Anora and I gave each other a subtle nod, and we knew it was time to enact our plan. It was just then, as I was about to release my arrow, that one of the guards on the ship suddenly dropped dead to the ground, an arrow had lodged in his heart. But neither Anora nor I had fired our shots.

"What the hell?" I exclaimed in surprise.

Trying to deduce where the arrow had come from, I scanned the area frantically. Suddenly, I saw a group of shadowy figures emerge from one of the adjacent ships. Their weapons drawn, they began to charge like madmen towards the shocked crew aboard the East Empire ship.

"We're under attack!" I heard a guard bellow. He was silenced only seconds later as I watched an arrow pierce the man's throat. All of the crew unsheathed their weapons and met the attackers head-on to defend their cargo.

Torgron, Anora and I could only watch the battle that was happening right in front of us. We stayed our hands as we knew it would be foolish to join the fray right now.

"Looks like we've got competition," Torgron sighed as we looked on.

"What do we do Torgron?" Anora asked.

"Wait until this little skirmish is over, then we kill whoever's left," the Nord answered.

The guards and East Empire Company traders were utterly overwhelmed by the ambush of these mysterious attackers. They tried desperately to keep up their failing defence, but one by one they fell. The assailants moved like phantoms in the shadows, their movements quick, smooth, and with deadly precision. Arrows rained through the sky from both sides. Rivers of blood spilled from all directions, running like a stream into the ocean from the docks. The last of the guards soon fell, and the traders were left at the mercy of these ruthless assailants. They pitifully begged for their lives, and I could only watch as their lives were brutally ended and their corpses tossed like garbage into the water.

"Good job men!" one of the attackers yelled proudly. "These damn fools stood no chance against us. Plunder every last septim worth of goods from this ship! More guards are likely to be on the way, so be quick about it!"

The attackers made their way to the ship, and it was then that Anora and I emerged from the bushes and simultaneously fired our arrows into two of the men. Their screams of pain as they died alerted the rest of the group, and they immediately rushed down towards us. Torgron drew a dagger from his belt and hurled it at one of the charging attackers. Hitting him square in the throat, he toppled forward as death consumed him. They stopped in front of us, and the bandit whom I assumed was the leader stepped forward.

"Who are you?!" he shouted with rage. "This is _our_ loot. Understand?!"

"See, that's where you're wrong," Torgron retorted. "We traveled here for three days, and I'll be damned before I let some snotty milk drinkers steal our contract."

"Well then I guess there's only one way to settle this," the bandit leader looked back to his followers. "Kill these pests, then take everything you can carry."

The bandits eagerly dashed towards us, and I promptly drew my sword. The first one I came up against was a Bosmer. He was rather short, which made him very swift as he swung his dual-wielded swords at me. I ducked beneath his ferocious strikes and rolled on my side before standing back up again. My attacker let out a menacing chuckle and spun his blades in his hands. Tightening my grip of my sword, I raised it above my head and gracefully deflected his following strike. My parry caused the Bosmer to stagger, and I seized him by the throat. The Wood Elf was unable to break free of my grasp, and I gladly drove my blade through his chest.

Torgron was off to the side, fending off two bandits simultaneously. With a wide, low sweep of his axe, the Nord brought his attackers down and swiftly brought about their deaths. Anora was facing off against an Altmer, and although he was nearly twice her size, Anora was easily able to dodge his magical attacks. She leapt and spun through the air as elegantly as the wind itself, and she kicked the Altmer to the ground before slitting his throat with a criss-cross motion of her daggers. More of the bandits ran at us, and Anora glanced at me, I could tell she had an idea.

"Cover me!" was all the woman said, and she then made a break for the ship. A lone bandit tried to block Anora's path, though she quickly did away with him, and his body clumsily plopped into the water. She then sheathed her daggers and began climbing the mast of the ship. Being the most nimble and agile of us, she was able to ascend the towering mast with ease. Anora drew her bow upon reaching the crow's nest, and her arrows were soon raining forth from above, burying themselves in our foes. The bandits' numbers were thinning, and I felt a rush of energy and encouragement beginning to course through me.

I was taken by surprise by an Imperial bandit who was able to knock my sword from my hand. I jumped back to dodge him, but he was quicker than I expected. A sharp blow from his left steel gauntlet sent me plummeting to the ground, and the bandit attempted to finish me as he knelt over me. I grabbed his arm, barely able to keep the tip of his blooded blade away from my face. I felt my strength waning as I struggled against the Imperial, and I knew my arms were mere seconds away from giving out. Suddenly, a pained yelp escaped the Imperial's mouth, followed by a rush of blood. He gave me a hateful scowl before keeling over, and I then saw the arrow that had come from Anora's bow stuck in his neck, the arrow that undoubtedly saved my life. I looked up towards her, giving her a smile of gratitude. She truly looked like a goddess that moment, the way her flowing hair blew in her face as she stood atop the ship, the way her skin gleamed with exquisite beauty under the pale, silver gaze of the moonlight.

"We've got em on the run Sargoth!" bellowed Torgron with glee, and I watched as he buried his axe into another bandit. "That'll teach them to mess with the Crimson Serpents!"

I shot down an Argonian who was running at me, and Torgron finished off yet another of the attackers. I looked around and saw that all the bandits were now a pile of corpses, save for one who was desperately trying to run for his life. Another of Anora's arrows descended above us and firmly lodged itself into his side, and he soon joined the rest of his gang in death.

Relief poured over me as I glanced at the bodies around us. This was certainly a tough battle, but we came out victorious in the end, as we always did. I put my weapons away and dropped to the ground to catch my breath.

"Good fighting, Drelas. Good fighting," Torgron complimented me, and I gave the Nord a smile. "Looks like that's all of them."

Unfortunately, he was dead wrong. And by the time I saw it, it was already too late. The faint creak of a bowstring met my ears. Everything was happening so fast, and yet it was slow-motion at the same time. I could make out a dark silhouette standing in the shadows. I made to yell as I saw him, to give a warning, but my tongue refused to utter the words.

And that was when an arrow as black as night cut through the darkness, and planted into Torgron's chest.


	25. Scarlet Sunrise

My mind could not process what had just happened. For a moment, everything seemed entirely unreal to me. It all just happened so suddenly, so randomly, so quickly. One moment, everything was fine, all of our attackers were dead, and our mission was near complete with my companions and I relatively unhurt. Then the next, as quick as a flash, everything was turned upside-down. One bandit still remained. One bandit who must have stayed hidden through the duration of the battle, taking cover in the lingering darkness, waiting for the right moment to emerge and make his move. By the time I saw him, before I even had a chance to react, the lone attacker had already taken aim with his bow. There was nothing I could do, nothing I could say to stop what was happening in front of my very eyes. The shock, the disbelief inside me froze me in place, like my entire body had been rendered numb by some terrible, evil spell. I was powerless, completely and utterly powerless, and that just made this situation all the more terrifying, and all the more painful.

"Torgron!" I shouted in horror, as the black arrow pierced the Nord's armor and planted firmly into his chest. Torgron gave a sharp cry of pain, his right hand firmly clutched around the arrowhead as he dropped to his knees. His axe fell to the ground, and I could hear him panting heavily.

I still couldn't make out the identity of this remaining bandit. His appearance was all but obscured by the shadows of nightfall. I could hear his quiet, but sickening laughter, and I could feel my blood beginning to boil like lava inside of me. I was angry; both at this lowlife who had managed to elude us, but also at myself for not seeing him sooner, for not being able to warn Torgron in time of the danger. I felt like it was my fault my companion was now wounded, and I silently began cursing myself in letting this happen.

Remarkably, Torgron forcibly yanked out the arrow and began to slowly stand back up. I could see a stream of blood running down the steel of his armor. The Nord struggled to grab his axe, and as he brought the ferocious weapon into the air, another arrow sped through the shadows and struck Torgron yet again.

"No!" I yelled as the Nord fell again with a thud to the ground. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. Not to Torgron. No, not to him. He was the mightiest warrior I had ever seen. He was easily the most physically capable member of the Crimson Serpents. He couldn't die, not like this. It would take more than two measly arrows to fell Torgron Wolf-Scar. Any second now, I expected him to rip out the arrow from his chest like he did the first one. I expected him to merely shrug his shoulders, like getting shot twice was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. I expected him to grab his axe, charge this attacker at full strength, and bring about a swift end to his life. But he never did.

Torgron remained on the ground, clutching his wound, desperately trying to stop the blood rushing out. He was coughing violently, panting, like someone stricken with a rabid disease. His eyes were cold, wide with terror. And that was when I realized that Torgron's wounds were serious. The Nord wasn't getting back up, his life was in danger. It was then that I finally snapped out of my trance-like state and came back to reality. I realized I needed to do something, and fast. I drew my sword and began to approach the attacker still lurking in the darkness. My blood was running hot with rage; the only thoughts present in my mind were ending this son of a bitch's life.

I now stood mere inches away from the shadowy attacker, and I expected him to brandish a weapon of some sort and engage me in combat. Instead, he merely spit at my feet and then took off running like a coward. After what he had done to Torgron, to my brother, he was really going to just run away and expect to survive? He wasn't at least going to do the honourable thing and face me in a fair duel? This was adding insult to injury, his cowardice only served to fuel my fury. He was going to die; he was going to know the meaning of pain by the time this was over.

I reached into my satchel as the sole bandit continued to run, his footsteps beginning to fade in the distance. I pulled out one of the small vials containing the paralysis poison Moon had made. I took a single arrow and doused the tip in the deadly liquid before nocking it in place on my bow. I didn't have much time to steady my shot; my target was quickly getting away. I knew I only had one chance at this. If I missed, he would be long gone by the time I was able to get another arrow ready. This was the only shot I had, and I was going to make it count. I took in a single breath of air as I lined up my arrow, the intense pressure causing my heart to beat violently inside me. I let my arrow loose and watched with pure anxiety as I watched it whistle and slice its way through the nightly mist.

I heard a pained scream make its way through the fog ahead of me, and I knew then my arrow had found its mark.

"Anora! Get down here!" I shouted, making sure she could hear me. I saw her grab onto the ropes of the ship, and she quickly slid down the mast before rushing over to the wounded Torgron.

"Watch him, and make sure he stays alive," I commanded. "I'm going to make this piece of dirt sorry he was ever born." As Anora began tending to Torgron's injuries, I walked with a brisk pace to where the bandit I had shot was lying. Just as I expected, Moon's poison worked like a charm. He was lying stiff as a board, the only indication he was even alive were the frantic, strained breaths that came from him. I knelt over him, turning him onto his back. After a moment's hesitation, I reached my blooded hand to his helmet and forcibly removed it from his head.

I tossed the battered helmet aside, and as I looked at the bandit's green, hideous visage, I saw that he was none other than an Orc. As if I needed yet _another_ reason to hate them.

The Orc struggled to move, much to my amusement. His whole body was rendered completely immobile. No matter how much he tried, no matter how much he uselessly struggled, his limbs would not relent against the poison flowing through his veins. This pile of trash was at my mercy, and I was going to savour this moment for every second.

"Well…wh-what are you waiting for," the Orc said with a snarl. "Kill me…and be done with it," foamy blood came out of his mouth as he coughed and hacked.

I grabbed the Orc by the collar of his leather armor, forcing him to sit up, our faces now only inches from each other.

"Oh fear not, I _am_ going to kill you," I said as the hatred and rage festering inside me began to erupt like a volcano. "You wounded my friend, and then ran like a coward. Death is no more than you deserve."

"At least…at least give me the honor of a quick death," said the Orc, his words growing fainter by the second. "Let me…let me die with dignity."

I laughed at the Orc's pitiful begging. I was suddenly reminded of that day so many years ago when I killed Ghorzag. I remembered the satisfaction, the intense feeling of justice that swept through me as that stupid Orc was finally getting what he deserved. The overwhelming pleasure that surged through my entire being as I brought Ghorzag to his final breath, that was all coming back to me now. And I was absolutely reveling in it.

"You don't _deserve_ a quick death, fucking scum," I scoffed. "Your kind are a plague upon this world. You're nothing but goddamn barbarians who spread needless suffering wherever you go. And now, you're going to feel that suffering. You're a savage, and you're going to die like one." I could see the Orc's face quivering in fear. He was still trying desperately to move, but his body remained inert.

I grabbed the defenceless Orc with my hand and forcibly removed his armor, followed by his gauntlets. I gradually worked my way down his whole body, stripping every piece of clothing off of him until he was wearing nothing but his loincloth. I sneered as the Orc actually began to weep, and an expression of pure humiliation crossed his face. After tossing his gear aside, I drew my dagger from my belt. The Orc's eyes grew wide with horror.

"What are you going to do with that?!" he asked in a panic. I remained silent, only tightening my grip on the hilt of my blade.

With a swift motion of my hand, I brought my dagger down and plunged it straight into the Orc's right femur bone. His shrill cries of pain echoed through my ears, accompanied by streams of blood spewing like a fountain. Without delay, I did the same to his other leg. All he could do was scream, the Orc was utterly powerless to stop me. Being paralyzed he couldn't even massage his wounds with his hands. I stood up and watched as the pool of blood slowly spread across the docks, with some even dripping into the rushing water.

"By the Gods! Just kill me!" the Orc bellowed in an agonized cry. "You're calling _me_ a savage?! What you're doing is beyond barbaric! Please, just kill me already!"

I wiped the blood from my dagger on my sleeve before putting it away again. I could see the water beneath the docks turning a shade of dark red. It would not be long before the Orc bled to death, but I had something else in mind. I lifted the limp Orc off the ground with both hands, holding him on the edge of the docks over the water.

"Them slaughterfish get mighty hungry this time of night," I said quietly to the Orc, "and they can smell fresh blood for miles and miles."

"_You wouldn't!_" replied the Orc.

"If you're lucky, you'll just bleed out and hardly feel a thing. If not, well, you're about to find out." And with that, I tossed the helpless Orc into the water, landing with a thunderous splash.

I watched as the still paralyzed Orc could do nothing to save himself. He could only float on the water's surface and await his inevitable doom, like a hare caught in a hunter's trap. And less than a minute later, just as I predicted, I spotted about a dozen small shadows dancing beneath the waves of the sea as they rapidly approached their meal. They formed a circular formation around the floating Orc, basking in the stains of blood. The group of famished slaughterfish then simultaneously charged at the Orc, I could see their jaws reach the top of the water as they all latched their teeth onto his flesh.

"Help! Oh gods, help me!" the Orc cried, his pleas only further aggravating the vicious creatures devouring him alive. I looked on with sadistic pleasure as the Orc's flesh was gnawed and peeled away, his bones ripped and torn asunder. I smiled as his pathetic wails carried through the night sky. The gaze of the moonlight was stained crimson as blood ran through the sea like wine.

The swarm of slaughterfish grew more ravenous every second, their razor sharp teeth mercilessly devouring the Orc like a voracious blaze that razes a forest to the ground. I could feel my whole body teeming with satisfaction as I slowly watched this lowlife die in front of my eyes.

I slowly turned around and walked away as the carnivorous creatures gnawed away the last shreds of the Orc's life. His screams grew fainter as he took his final breaths, the echoes fading gradually as the nightly winds blew over the sea. Soon enough, all was silent once more. I didn't even stop to glance back at the now deceased Orc. I knew that within an hour, after the slaughterfish had all but finished their meal, that he would be nothing but a pile of decayed bones, left to rot as the endless currents of the ocean swept them away.

"How is he?" I asked Anora upon returning. She was still next to Torgron, giving her best effort at keeping the Nord alive as he lay panting and coughing on the docks, fighting for his life.

"Not good," she answered with grimness in her voice, "his wounds are much more serious than I first thought. The arrows pierced his heart and lungs. I don't know what can be done for him, he's bleeding from the inside."

I knelt next to Torgron, and he slowly looked at me with a slight grin on his face.

"Did…did that milk drinker get what was coming to him?" Torgron asked with much strain in his words.

"You bet he did Torgron," I said. "I won't go into details, but let's just say the slaughterfish got an unexpected surprise tonight." Even in his critical condition, Torgron managed to force out a chuckle.

"You sure know how to give your enemies a painful end…" Anora wiped off Torgron's armor as more blood seeped through.

"Listen Sargoth…you still need to destr…destroy that ship. It's the last part of the job," Torgron was coughing up blood as he spoke. "Hurry. We need to get…away from here before more guards show up."

"Right," I said, trying to hide my panic as I feared greatly for Torgron's life. I fiddled with my belt for a moment and adjusted my weapons. "Anora, stay here and keep watching over him. I'll be back soon."

I swiftly ran up the ramp to the ship's main deck and upon reaching the interior, I grabbed a nearby torch from the wall and made for the cargo hold on the lower levels of the vessel.

* * *

As I trekked through the dark, musty corridors of the ship, I took notice of just how damaged it truly was. Several large, gaping holes where the ship had been ripped and torn apart could be seen on the walls and floors where water was seeping through. The smell of rotten wood slowly being chewed away by the elements sent a repulsive, repugnant sensation through my nostrils. Cobwebs hung from the rafters beneath the ceiling, black patches of mold were growing and thriving amongst the leakage. Continuing downwards in the ship I could see rows upon rows of crates all bunched and stacked together in piles. Several treasure chests were scattered all over the place as well, probably loaded with valuables that would fetch a nice price. I didn't have any time for looting though. I had one thing on my mind only, and that was destroying this ship and completing the job. Torgron was gravely wounded, and we had to get him help soon.

I came upon a set of stairs that led me directly to the ship's cargo hold. Small pools of water were leaking through the floor, along with the occasional drop that would fall from the ceiling. It wouldn't be of any hindrance to my plan of setting the ship ablaze however. Before destroying this rotting vessel though, I thought I would satisfy my curiosity and look in the crates, just to see what all this trouble was over. Grabbing a nearby crowbar from the ground, I then climbed one of the stacks of crates. I pried the lid off the crate with the crowbar, tossing both to the floor afterwards. Sheets of fur were wrapped around whatever was inside the crate, probably to help keep it secure from damage. After quickly doing away with the fur I saw countless stacks of glass bottles sitting atop one another. I grabbed one from inside the crate to inspect it more closely. The bottle was quite small, the glass was colored with a dark purplish hue. I found it strange how there were no labels to be seen, giving no indication of the contents in the bottle. I popped the cork from the bottle, holding the tip to my nose. I was immediately struck by a powerful, almost overwhelming smell as I took a quick whiff of the bottle. After almost nearly gagging from the sensation, it was then that it dawned on me what was in these bottles.

"Skooma." I was bewildered at my unexpected discovery. Why would the East Empire Company be importing skooma, one of the most illegal substances in Tamriel? Why were they selling it directly to a major city? Usually skooma deals were conducted only in secret between bandits and other lowlife criminal types. I had no clue as to why the Company would be dealing with the drug so openly. Maybe Torgron was right. Maybe they really were corrupt from the inside. It obviously would have taken somebody very high up in the company with a cunning mind and malicious intents to authorize something like this. That would also explain why the other group of bandits showed up the same time we did. They must have known ahead of time what this shipment contained, and they would have been able to sell this for a fortune.

None of that really mattered though. Whatever the reason may have been for the East Empire Company to be bartering with skooma, the fact remained that there was still a job to be done. This shipment still had to be destroyed, and I was more than happy to do it. After all, it was skooma that destroyed my family and severed my parents' relationship. I took a quick glance at the torch in my hand, and without a second's hesitation, I hurled it into the towering stack of crates. They caught fire almost instantly, and the blaze began to spread throughout the room at an alarming rate, devouring everything in its path without mercy. I rushed out of the now smoking cargo hold as the ship continued to burn from the inside out. I made my way back outside and rejoined my companions who were watching the raging inferno.

"We need to leave, now," I said with urgency.

"How are we supposed to get Torgron out of here?" Anora asked me.

"We'll both lift him out of here," I said. "With the two of us together, we should hopefully be able to get him out of here." I took one last gaze at the ship as the growing flames consumed it whole. Within minutes this once mighty vessel would be reduced to nothing but piles of driftwood to be swept away by the ocean's swift current.

"Hang in there Torgron," said Anora, trying to encourage the Nord. "We're going to get you out of here and find help. Just stay with us."

Using all of our strength, Anora and I slowly lifted Torgron from the ground and began to make for the city where hopefully we could find a healer. The Nord was indeed heavy, given his immense size, as well as his cumbersome equipment. Anora and I both struggled greatly to carry him and move at the same time. His axe dangled lazily from his back, drenched with blood. I saw that his wounds were still bleeding, and I knew we were running out of time. Our desire to help our friend was greater than our physical limitations. It was what allowed us to press on, despite our growing fatigue.

"Guys...stop," Torgron said as we approached the city gates. "Put me down, please."

"No, we're almost in the city," I shot back. "We're going to find you a healer, Torgron. You're going to be all right. You're going to make it through this! You can't give up now!"

"No, it's too late for that Sargoth," the Nord said in almost a whisper. "I don't want either of you risking your necks to save me. I hear the call of my ancestors now, beckoning me to the halls of Sovngarde. The gods are calling me home."

"Don't' say that Torgron!" Anora shouted. "Please, you _have _to stay strong!"

"Leave me here. Save…save yourselves. My time has come, there's nothing you can do for me."

Anora and I glanced at each other. Tears were streaming from both of our eyes, and we reluctantly complied and laid Torgron back down.

Looking into the Nord's eyes, I could see the life in them slowly ebbing away. The joyous, shining sparkle that always radiated like starlight was fading from his gaze as death drew nearer.

"Torgron, please! You can't die! You can't!" Anora yelled, weeping heavily. I was struggling to hold my own tears back as a feeling of sorrow and hopelessness began to swell within my heart.

"Do not grieve for me," Torgron said in a calm, peaceful voice, "for there is no greater honor for a Nord than to die valiantly in battle. A Nord is judged not by how he lived, but by how he died. And there is no other way I would rather leave this world, than through the same way all the great Nordic legends did. I lived a good life, and I know the heroes of old will welcome me to feast with them in the halls of Shor himself." Torgron gave a smile as he spoke. His expression did not show fear nor sadness. Although he knew his death was nigh, he was facing his end with courage, like a true warrior. He was calm and at peace, knowing that a glorious afterlife awaited him.

"Sargoth, I need you to do something for me," Torgron whispered to me.

"Anything, Torgron," I replied.

"Reach into my pouch, take the envelope inside." I complied and shuffled my hand through the Nord's pouch. Sure enough there was a crinkled envelope.

"Inside that envelope is a letter to my son. I need you to find a courier and make sure it gets to him," Torgron paused for a second. "Please, my son needs to know that I love him, and that I'm…I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, Torgron. I'll make sure the letter is delivered."

The dying Nord gave me a smile of gratitude.

"Sargoth, Anora. Do not be afraid, for we must all pass from this world eventually. Never be afraid to follow your dreams, and always be strong. Live in honor, and most of all, live for those you love." Torgron shifted his gaze to the moonlit sky.

"I'm going to miss all of you. It's been an honor getting to know you. The Crimson Serpents gave me the best years of my life, and for that I am eternally grateful." Despite my grief, I was able to muster a smile. Anora was holding his hand as he drew his final breaths.

"On this day…I join my forefathers in paradise." The Nord looked on towards the heavens that were now calling him home, and he then closed his eyes for the final time.

And so passed Torgron Wolf-Scar. A dear friend, companion, brother, and one of the finest warriors I had ever met. My heart was overcome with grief and sadness. It was like a black void the size of the world itself was swelling within me, slowly devouring me whole. Any joy, happiness, or peace I might have had was utterly extinguished like a candle doused by water. I felt as if everything I had ever known at that point was crashing down around me. I remembered it was Torgron who had first welcomed me into the Crimson Serpents when Galthar introduced me to everyone. It was Torgron who kindly greeted me that day, who made me feel as if I had been with them all along. He was a brother to all of us, and I felt like a small part of me died with him that night.

I knelt next to the weeping Anora who was still holding Torgron's hand. She buried her head in my chest as we embraced each other, and I tried my best to console her. I was absolutely dreading going back home and having to break the devastating news to everyone, especially Soren. Torgron and Soren were close as kin for years, and I knew they were pretty much brothers to each other. I didn't even want to imagine his reaction when I told him, but of course it was unavoidable. This was going to be a difficult time for the Crimson Serpents. We were going to need each other through the coming days, and eventually we were going to have to move on and continue living our lives as we always have, just like Torgron would have wanted.

We carried Torgron's body to the top of a hill overlooking the sea on the outskirts of Anvil. The sun was beginning to rise, the sky was painted a bright scarlet as the song of the seagulls circling above echoed over the distant shores. The waves of the ocean crashed against the rocks below as the blooming pastures and evergreen fields shined with vivacious beauty. Anora and I gathered some firewood, piling them together to build a pyre on which we placed Torgron. Anora cleaned all the blood off his equipment, laying his axe vertically along his body and closing his fingers in a tight grip around the hilt. I looked into the face of my fallen friend one final time. I was almost expecting him to suddenly open his eyes with a smile on his face, and everything would be back to the way it was. But alas, it was not to be. Our friend was gone, never to return. Never again would I see his brightening smile. Never again would I witness his fierce skill and determination in battle. Never again would I share a drink with him after a grueling contract, sitting back and telling jokes and getting drunk together. And never again would I meet a finer warrior who showed such loyalty and devotion to his friends, and who died for that loyalty. No, Torgron was gone forever. Life in the Crimson Serpents would never be the same without him.

"Farewell, brother," I whispered. "May the gods welcome you into the halls of Sovngarde."

And with that, I set the funeral pyre ablaze and watched in mourning silence as the flames consumed the Nord's lifeless body.


End file.
